Unless I look at the mirror in the morning
I do not feel I have aged at all.
If I am not bothered by my knees aching,
I don't feel old and I don't often fall.
I used to lift three bags of goods
From the grocer or convenient store,
Now I find it hard, like my changing moods-
They're heavier than they were before.
I walk the same pace, no need to hurry.
But it seems the street lights change too fast.
Do I need to run to cross the street quickly
Or roller skate downtown, as it seems I must?
I don't feel old, the world just turned faster.
The young forget that life is but a journey.
For some it ends early and is soon swiftly over
They forget to live well and enjoy it slowly.
Copyright © Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~~03.13.19
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem