Awe,age

The irony of life and love, tricks played on trusting souls by a heartless prankster. I didn't even know what I didn't know. I longed to play the music of your heart and body with magical, skillful hands. Youth, full of vigor, bluster. Heads full of air, light as eagles feathers and just as beautiful. The hoary head has earned wisdom. Now that I understand this game, I sit alone with no one to play with. No teeth to instill fear nor smile that brings butterflies. Finally, seeing perfectly, we can't command the stage but must give over to the air heads, the collective "us" of the past. Awe...age. Hearty-har-har.