Aged

One isn’t less so because they are “old”.
Why avert our eyes as time’s wit grows gold?

When everything you choose to say bears weight…
Minds unappreciative of extra great.

We value auld objets: vintage, classic.
Yet, our value of elders grows brassic.

I’ve begun earning clarity of age.
I’m shocked that not more of us are enraged.

Like tossing fine wine after forty-five.
Why don’t we revere remaining alive?

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lbstowe

I see the world through a Painter’s eyes and process it with a Poet's Heart....it's quite a harsh place for the soul. It scratches and wears your true self down, at times, but the Beauty is Addictive. I feel for everyone I encounter. Everyone I encounter is a teacher if I'll let them be. I Empathize with everyone I talk to & I Think about Everything-LEVi

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