When Youth Is Gone

The day comes when you know that youth is gone,
And every secret fire is set to dwindle;
You cast about to find another way,
To find a flicker that you can rekindle

But this is how it goes: we have our time,
And only that, we get no minutes more —
The seasons that turn into memories,
The empty years ere we’re placed in
A drawer

Published by

Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

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