My Old Brain

My old brain is 36 dry losing the youth these eyes begin to cry Sun casting shadows Yesterday's friends are no longer shining collecting only cobwebs in the attic of my mind It is not easy to think But ,I do not,for an instant pause to open that beer can and drink Sitting on a bench of that Park There is an old puppy who is too weak to bark My vision starts to water as I walk over to stroke his thinning fur People come and going are passing us by without knowing Girls are getting taller Boys are growing facial hair But this decaying Pain is all that remains of my dying old brain