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Aging
When age has left its footprints upon my tired face,
And marked a quiet jade in the blue of my eyes,
The life of my youth will be a memory,
And I will hold it close like a fragile rose.
When they stop to ask me where the soul lies,
Where my heart beats in those older days,
I’ll take a step forward and look into their own eyes,
Nothing in the past is a waste if you wanted it at the time.
What else is there that would be left to say?
I could regret a million things and answer with bite,
Makes excuses for every step gone wrong,
Or prove that there’s beauty woven through life,
And reliving the memories could revive me for a time,
Leaving my heart beating fresh blood through my veins.
