Day Sixty-Eight

Having your youngest cousins visit.
You sit in the backdrop, watching - remembering.
The tick of time floats in your mind like background music to your memories.

Age has settled in and before you had time to enjoy your youth,
you're left with the bruised fruits of your journey already travelled before you crossed begin. 
Unable to bite into the rottenness, you have no choice,
but to sit crossed legged under the dying tree and watch the children in front of you. 

Hope for someone else comes into play. 
The children in front of you link hands and they begin to sing to the chorus of life.
Unlinking, life's path wraps them in it's blanket.
Dependant on how fast the child spins, depends on how badly the bruises show.

Faith. Such a quick visitor leaves your house before you've opened the door.
Without faith  to let your teeth sink in, how can you know if life tastes cruel or if it's just bitter sweet.

Having your youngest cousins visit.
You sit in the backdrop, watching - remembering. 
Where did the tock of time rush to. 

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