At ten
A thought I feared manifested.
Thoughts not to be feared, but was feared.
Why are humans engrossed in irrelevances?
What if death was the peace in disguise?

At eighteen
life becomes more gripping
gripping that I totally forgot all about
the cold sweats.

At twenty
it was a whole new mode.
I became skittish in almost everything.
Now I can see the world but the world
can't see me.

I loath each time a
new candle is blown.
Joy in grieving season.
What sort of unending ritual is this?
Birthdays are alarms in disguise
reminding us of man's greatest fear.

I hate this culture.
each time I blow out a candle
a new fear creeps in
The fear of not standing upright
The fear of not remaining an
adonis.

Once a spotless face
now filled with wrinkles.
Once a Bae.
now called Grandpa.

Where did the wishes go?
Ever young wish
where did they go?
ominously smiling while
It creeps in.

Slowly one has to live with it
Slowly one has to enjoy it
Slowly one has to be drained by it
That is the fears-
the fear of growing old.

©Bright Alado