By T.L. Coston
Ah, who is this stranger staring back at me
An imposter mocking youth and vitality
Eyes once bright and fair
Are now creviced within folds of an aged man
A lifetime seen through the prism of self
Weighted in experience; Leaden with guilt
I see the boy trapped behind hazel guile
He, who was once fair, I barely recognize
I see him standing askance in a stare
And beside him others who I am unaware
They are multitudes spanning time and space
Imprisoned in a vessel not long for this race
The hour glass has passed the pessimist test
Soon, there will be time for plenty of rest
For, this old man is about to give up the ghost
And join those in another human host
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