but to the world i was piffle,

there lay the contradiction

to me i was holding centerstage, basking in the limelight,

to the world, i was an extra in the background,

there lay the contradiction,

to me, i could and deserved glorious love,

to the world, a strangeness shrowded me best avoided,

there lay the contradiction

to me, i was delivering glorious speeches to ringing ovation,

to the world, i was part of the faceless audience,

there lay the contradiction

only hair that slowly went from black to grey,
and much of which fell away,
cheeks once firm which started to sag,
each eye, now accompanied with a bag,
the prized six pack, now a sack,
the mirror which sometimes evoked hope -
“they cant resist you indefinitely, you’re not that bad”
now tells a story, not too savory, -
“too late buddy, you shoulda taken the chance you had”

and a mood which grew increasingly irritable,
and poems which became increasingly bitter

dance, play, feel alive! in the wash of the refreshing cool wind,
which snakes through the trees, carrying autumn leaves in merry circles,
ruffles and muffs your hair, teases every inch of your tired skin,
dance while you can,
because carefree and wild is the breeze,
try to embrace it,
and it blows right through,

bathe in the gurgling brook,
which winds through the woods, filling them with its rhythmic song,
oh the shocking joy of the first touch of cold water!
but try to grasp it in your hand,
and it trickles through your fingers,
the wet of your palm,
a remembrance of its soothing touch,

Lull yourself to a peaceful sleep,
and dream dreams, of what could have been,
because when morning breaks,
all the castles of your thought,
break against reality, and fade into smoke,

all that is yours, o traveler,
is to spend solitary evenings,
writing idyllic poems,
about the one who got away

and one day, you too shall pass on.