I know nothing.
The legs under me are weak.
Unable to support my curiosity.
To take one step would mean fatigue
because I have gone nowhere.
I am trapped in the mental prison
of age.
Unable to get out, so
I know nothing
of love,
of intertwining hands
and lips,
of simple romance
that captures the heart.
I know nothing of
beauty and miracles
and people.
People who live together
and love together.
People who are connected by lightning
and share their
beautiful shock with anyone they can.
I know nothing of
pain and sorrow.
I have no experience
with loss, or
with the agony of the human race,
but I am on the cusp of agony.
Not quite there,
but getting close.
As things cloud me,
and take me,
and tell me what to do
I get away from age
on my long journey
to life.