the more you age <br />the more you keep things to yourself <br /> <br />old and new socks are mixed up in one wooden cabinet <br />somehow you are not using any <br /> <br />it is just the keeping for keeping sake <br />you are not thinking of any heir of any shoe <br /> <br />you begin to emphasize the importance of empty containers <br />how each must be filled <br /> <br />an empty cup must have coffee to its brim <br />an empty room must have someone to talk to <br /> <br />and empty road shall have at least one car making a dusty path <br />the empty stairs are too fearful to look at <br /> <br />how you hate an empty chair <br />it can make you sick if no one sits in there in another hour <br /> <br />the hours can be empty too <br />how can you stop the arms of the clock from taking away the sound <br />of ticking? <br /> <br />you are sensing a terminal <br />the train must be full so that you can never experience the <br />palpitations of being alone <br />you can hear it like the sounds of korean drums <br />the cascading waterfalls <br />the horns of taxis in city traffic <br /> <br />do not dare to stop the inevitable <br />i assure you... you can't. So? get yourself attuned <br /> <br />have an empty cup and learn to drink from it <br />you must feign the satisfaction of thirst, because <br /> <br />it can't be long.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-insecurities-of-aging/
