CHASING YOUTH

We chase the fleeting echo of our youth, In serums, creams, in scalpels skin-deep, As we suspend the past under The sculptor’s blade. The wisdom gathered is expelled, discarded, Off of our skin because time is a shame. Each wrinkle sits where a minute once passed, On the way to answer your heart’s yearning For a long life, just a little more time. Did you not pray, that the death’s shadow Remains a stranger at your door?! If you are aging, it is because heaven said yes. You are spun of silver, so refined like gold. Time is not a curse Even when it makes a home on your face. It is a storage of the memories that you are, Of loves embraced, and tears that met your eyes. Let go of the chase, the yearning to rewind. Though time may steal your youth It gifts you a chance.