Poem: Harsh Reality

Old minds,

memories of young times,

trembling hands,

still know what it was like to be firm,

tired eyes, watching generations pass,

still can see old friends,

weak legs, need assistance to walk,

yet one always yearns to sprint again.

 

All of you ages,

all of you changes,

but pride remains the same,

it doesn’t age and it doesn’t forget,

it remembers the ideal you,

as the You now,

diminishes.

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