Age is a sly old stranger
who comes at the close of the day
Age is a regular charmer
who begs to come and stay
Age is like the furniture
you know him like your stairs
Age is a sly old stranger
he’ll catch you unawares
Age is a sly old stranger
who comes at the close of the day
Age is a regular charmer
who begs to come and stay
Age is like the furniture
you know him like your stairs
Age is a sly old stranger
he’ll catch you unawares
Sometimes I get so tired. Tired of trying… day after day after day. I feel a sense of crumbling age creeping upon my youth. Pinning my eyelids down with the dust of so many somedays…
Every now and then, I shake my head, jerked from monotony by the unseen. For a little while, I feel lighter. My head held high, the corners of my lips curving upward.
Then, once again, the sediment begins to cover me. It teams up with gravity and pulls at me slowly. Demanding nothings call my name over and over, chanting to the beat of my lethargic pulse.
And another day goes by… and I wonder.
when the seasons begin to blend
and the years start to run together