Making Me Old
Still in my prime-
yet I feel too old.
Your games are making me old,
aging me before my time.
My body hurts from all this
that you do.
Don't know when I'll break,
but it'll be soon.
I can't keep bottling everything,
keep everything hidden-
so I don't appear weak;
because it's making me old.
You don't seem to see
the effect you have on me-
turning a blind eye to me
is all that you do.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.