old youth
written by: Introverted Thoughts
old, frail and ghostly are they –
homes and fields so green, they revive youth.
when memories held captive in minds,
fall over like a warm blanket and
hold you close to the ground, with
the weight of golden smiles and black words.
‘these are your roots‘, they say.
‘through flesh, bone and grime
have you walked,
and roots are never forgotten, friend mine‘.
as your rabbit-hole turns chaotic when
people so many, yet to be met,
and stories that never lived past the first draft –
linger in the air,
with no wonderland at the end.
in search for an eye that
sees without looking,
for strangers’ glances
that rewrite conclusions –
such versatility is that
which propels us through it all.
fair and long is
the path that leads to the heart, friend.
riddles unanswered and questions left
stand guard, to
the story that writes itself home.
old, frail and ghostly are they –
homes and fields so green, they revive youth
that ages like fine wine.
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