Tired
I'm tired.
getting old and gray
little left to say;
a mere observer of this world's cries
contemplating the hows and whys;
all those wherefores, ifs, ands, buts
of when and where life cuts,
time became so slow
it appears a mystery
fleeting along the paths of history
suddenly downhill,
stagnant movement within the standstill;
a keepsake at best,
sleeping without rest,
waking with little words or phrases,
obsessed by what was past ages,
what should have been of life's written pages,
and what is yet to be said
of marking time lost, yet forging ahead;
but I'm too tired somehow,
observing once more, the past that is now.
Copyright © Dm Babbit | Year Posted 2021
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