I have never been a social creature
And as such was of a make and model
Of my own refined design
It made me unique but now
As I have let loose the words of my mind
I find it ever harder to remain myself
To distinguish which words are mine and which are manufactured to please others

I used to think the worse thing
Was feeling my mind dying
In the blackness, in the pain
But there's something worse than that bane

It's the shifting gravel below me that begins
   To trickle off the cliff, into the wind
       Knowing that I will follow in stride
         And nothing I can do will turn the tide

When I was young
I learned of my inky blood
My paper bones, and graphite mind

When I was young
I wrote to please my family
Who loved words even if they were mine

When I aged
And the world grew strange
I wrote for me to understand that time

When I aged
And those words were for me
I was scared to share those precious things

Now I am old
And am starting to share
The words that have been trapped inside

Now I am old
And still young at heart
Wondering if others will appreciate my art