Worn

Do you remember?
The hush of fire flies as they kissed your palms,
Or the cool water on your face in summer’s eve?

No.
How could you?
How can you remember the beauty and pain of youth.
I know why you don’t remember.

You don’t remember because you have grown old,
And sleepy and tired.
Just…drawn out.

Didn’t Oscar Wilde whisper to you…
“I am not yet young enough to know everything.”?
Didn’t you believe in that a young time ago?
Didn’t you care before I was born?

Horribly ashamed,
Here you are.

Polluted your lungs with tar and nicotine,
And let your skin become haggard and brown,
The luster and life is gone.

And the kisses of fire flies and young girlfriends no longer stain your cheeks,
And the cool water that once soothed only stings,
I feel sorry for you,
So sorry indeed.