A Day Past Middle Age

February 14, 2021

As I grow old, I empty my cup,
All the memories that make me who I am.
I don’t take the time to wipe them up,
And let the moments soak in the sand.

And what I am left is this empty cup,
Perhaps that is all who I am.
I’m afraid of the memories I’m giving up,
In time they disappear into the sands.