roogymirror's Poems: Vol. I

Illusions and Growth

An ebb and flow like you've never known,

a snow globe shook and a sweater outgrown,

unkind father time took an innocent child

and made him old and bitter and mild.

There was no mind suffering indecision,

the choice was made with such precision

that a horror befell the child's face,

as he came to realise his ultimate place.

A time to play, a time to work

epiphany, like a sudden jerk

pulled the child away from his play

and sent him to work another day.

The illusion he felt was that of magic,

though the truth was manyfold more tragic,

as his desire to be adult

locked his soul inside a vault.

His simplistic separation of these two ages,

created the problem in its early stages,

and as he grew older, he stagnated,

as he continued the life he hated.

Every year, he would entertain

different ideals within his brain

and hope to do something different next year

but knew his mind was too unclear.

In his final days, he could see his mistake

but it was too late to apply the brakes

he passed away with a heavy heart

as he wished for the freshest of starts.