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Young Still

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Young still I am. 

Though old I feel. 

 

The youthful blushes

once there, now forever gone. 

 

The fresh feeling of being young,

replaced with the depression of aging. 

 

How can I get it back?

Not my youth I mean,

 

but the feeling of it.

That sense of having the world by the tail.

 

At thirty-eight, I’m searching,

searching for my soul to bloom again.

 

Those blushes to return, 

never more gone forever.

 

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    2 COMMENTS

    1. Middle age is peculiar. You are neither young nor old and yet both. It is a window through which you can see — what was, what is, and will be. How will you choose to look through the glass?

      I am in the same position, my friend. Excellent piece!

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