The Fine Line Between Now and Then

Can you trace over
Those furrows,
Traveling through his face,
Seperating him,
Young to Old?

Can you see them?
Those deep wrinkles,
Running vastly,
Like a stream
Stuck in an ocean,
Crying to get out?

Can you picture him,
Without those ridges
On his beautiful skin,
That scrunches it into
Several layers?

Can you imagine
His life long ago,
Where he was wrinkle-less?
And it held you hostage,
Keeping you by his side,
Not wanting to let go?

Can you remember?
It was you once.
You who he held when
Sadness grasped,
You who spent your
Happiest days in his clutches,
You who looked upon
His eyes and saw pride.
It was you who kept him alive.
It was you.

But now,
Now that age has stolen
His outer frame,
You push him into the dust
And bury him deep?

He can't get out now,
He's too fragile,
Too weak,
Yet there you sit,
With your arms folded,
Without care,
Without hope.

And still,
You forgot something.
You forgot what really matters,
You forgot his gracefull heart.
It was that that stole your breath,
Not his looks,
Not his skin.
It was his smile that kept you company,
His laughter that said you were home.

And here,
Here you still lay,
Glancing at him,
With that same hopeless look.
That one you've given him
For the past fourty years.