They told me I’m old.
How old?
Have the stars touched down yet, bringing their melted beings to me?
Has the moon turned a thousand more times around so someone sees though the darkened pit?
Can I move without touching the blinded gravel that feels no rage now?
I am old in my eyes, my heart unseen.
Bring me toys of youth, bring me laughter. Help me. I am old they say, too old to stay.
