What's Up?

My sandbox is dirty My hourglass takes an hour and a half And everyone seems to be writting, My epitaph The mountains much taller Than just a year ago, And for some strange reason, I understand only a fraction Of what I once used to know And the children running All the major companies Anxious to reduce My social service Can't see the forest for the trees Once I was young And eager to advance And all I can say, I had my chance Now I'm relegated to the back room, Put on a dusty shelf Told I have to learn, To take care of myself What's up? When did it change so? Where are those things, I used to know? So I sit quietly here, I don't make a sound, I don't move a muscle, Especially if someone is around. I'll just fade to black To time's ebony crevasse And await my ultimate fate To come to me at last.