Am I Too Old?
To change myself
In the things I never say,
in the things I never admit,
it is there between the lines,
where the real truth exists.
In the look of an eye,
in snide taunts that slip by,
in feelings I constantly deny,
that is where the truth lies.
The truth of my reality,
the truth of my being.
The truth of what is
really distressing me.
Yet I continue to ignore,
all that pains me.
There is certain strength needed,
to face the reality ,
of my decisions failing me.
And I don’t have it yet,
the strength to face my failures.
Their face too ugly,
their weight too heavy.
If only I had the strength,
to face everything buried.
I could cross over,
start anew,
past all my fears.
But alas, that is far-fetched,
because I’m too old,
to change my views.
So I tell myself,
the same old lies.
Continuing the pretense,
of an illusionary merry life.
