These eyes do not see
As they saw in their youth.
Now spending their time
Finding falsified truths.
Those young ears are gone
With that patience, unmet
Replaced now with holes
Filled with sawdust and sweat
These lips have no strength
And to this mind’s crooked hand cede
Leading those cynical proverbs
To cause this tongue to bleed
Those hands that were once
Content with a fond, loving touch
Recoil to rough, slipp’ry work
That’s been relied on too much.
It’s false appeasement,
Only digression has been achieved.
And it’s self-induced
But it’s comfortable, being deceived.
So the good won’t return
Since ill stance can ne’er restore
The better, now lost
Though in abundance before.
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