You are old when you've missed your dad, your mom or both.
You're grown, whenever you could be missed, fired or left behind.
You're aged when you are loosing those jobs you used to be wise
and learned to do your own work around the clock.
You're matured when you could be easily ignored.
You're old when you've found yourself longed to be younger.
You're aged whenever you sighed to be another's else child
to warm yourself with a missed hug, your loved ones have denied.
You find yourself alone, waving good-bye those you knew.
You've boiled water to make it mild each time those bones felt shook.
Your hands are shaken, your body swings when no music is played around.
Your body is took, your mind is moved, out of this playing ground.
You've walked like loved children, wearing diapers no one else removed.
You're bushed, somewhat burned-out, like a tired iron no one wants to use.
You're old, taking colored pills each day, when your eyes can't see them well
and those goggles are lost somewhere easily, same way you've got lost in the city.
You're old when you see things with the heart, and no one else can see with those eyes.
You're old fashioned and square when dearly loved and cared ones are too busy to meet you,
whenever you walked across those crowded streets with no help, aware of those days you helped
elders the moment ladies in need sought for a gentle knight no one else sees now.
Your gray hair is turning white, and no one told you why.
You've breathed, in and out, and any moment you could die.
You've loved your kids, now growing up,
and any moment you'd be waved good-bye.
Your sight is clearer than those days you probably missed once.
Your nights could be awake much longer, somewhat bored,
if you don't pray and here's where you'd have the chance to pleadings
if you have said you were alone, for those you saw being too young.
A.Toro
You're grown, whenever you could be missed, fired or left behind.
You're aged when you are loosing those jobs you used to be wise
and learned to do your own work around the clock.
You're matured when you could be easily ignored.
You're old when you've found yourself longed to be younger.
You're aged whenever you sighed to be another's else child
to warm yourself with a missed hug, your loved ones have denied.
You find yourself alone, waving good-bye those you knew.
You've boiled water to make it mild each time those bones felt shook.
Your hands are shaken, your body swings when no music is played around.
Your body is took, your mind is moved, out of this playing ground.
You've walked like loved children, wearing diapers no one else removed.
You're bushed, somewhat burned-out, like a tired iron no one wants to use.
You're old, taking colored pills each day, when your eyes can't see them well
and those goggles are lost somewhere easily, same way you've got lost in the city.
You're old when you see things with the heart, and no one else can see with those eyes.
You're old fashioned and square when dearly loved and cared ones are too busy to meet you,
whenever you walked across those crowded streets with no help, aware of those days you helped
elders the moment ladies in need sought for a gentle knight no one else sees now.
Your gray hair is turning white, and no one told you why.
You've breathed, in and out, and any moment you could die.
You've loved your kids, now growing up,
and any moment you'd be waved good-bye.
Your sight is clearer than those days you probably missed once.
Your nights could be awake much longer, somewhat bored,
if you don't pray and here's where you'd have the chance to pleadings
if you have said you were alone, for those you saw being too young.
A.Toro
