Saturday, January 12, 2013
I feel old.

The laughter and happiness from my youth,
paints my face with lines.
Lines of wisdom and knowledge that the world
was not the way I had hoped.

My eyes have seen too much 
failure and disappointment. 
They are tired and the rings beneath my eyes
Must remind you of the life that was within me.
Does it hurt you to look upon them?

My eyes don't watch the way they used to.
Or desire. 
Or wonder.
Or fight.
Do they?

I will always remember the fearlessness I felt when
I had nothing to lose. 
So refreshing and real
was ignorance and childishness. 

Now everything plays before my eyes like a scene
from another time. 
A time of curiosity and exploration.
A time when time was endless.
Now I see, but I don't recognise. 
I hear, but am I listening?

These tired eyes watch these tired hands
type these tired words.

These eyes are only watching now.

The beautiful world pass us by.