cage

it’s the eyes
they are the same
yesterday and today and tomorrow
recording and recording and recording
every moment…every syllable
as it has been said…

input is input,
but where does it go?
these memory banks get full
so something needs to go
shall we lose ourselves as children?
i think not…
it keeps us from getting old inside

maybe this is why we become child-like
in the sunset years…
we hold tight to our young selves
for fear of drowning in a sea of age…
for fear of dying in a self-imposed cage

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.