Aging


The tickling of time a dreadful foe
The mirror plays a slow, persistent game
The field watches her green turns gray
The skin welcome her new found mate

The face is familiar, yet not quite the same
A shifting landscape turns night
Nature's call to her own dismay
A call, a fate for all men to bear

Image generated using Gemini AI

The fire isn't vanished, it just move inside
To keep the spirit warm against the cold
A time where years becomes a plague
And the bones lost her strength to the ground

It isn't a crash but a quiet rhythmic tides
The way the silver weaves into the gold
While strength linger to have a foot
Memories becomes her dearest friend

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1 comments

This is a great ode to aging. Nice poem.

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Thank you dear

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