Age

Wrote this poem while thinking of my grandparents.....age is a funny thing; The understanding of our emotions with age....funnier.

In my mind comes an old man's outline,

tears dripping down his eyes,

then the picture flashed and became a child,

with the same old dripping eyes.

No resemblence, yet a lot of the reflected aura of neglectence.

Even if all eyes are turned on them,

they do feel some pain, a sorrow,

they are unable to explain.

Wait, one difference I do find,

the old suffers the pain of knowing he must lean,

whilst the child cries, not realizing.

Author's Note

What do you think? Of this poem and of..."Age"? :)