Old Man
Old Man
I am not an old man
I'm a young man that's grown old
not that aged look seen when young
glazed forgotten aching slow
I'm not him waiting in some park
reason fading race already run
nor seated in deaths icy room
neither lost, bereft or my labour done
These eyes still reflect my ancient world
and that place still looks the same
I am a mountain watching seasons
a mountain bathe by wind and rain.
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