he sits alone in the darkness on a wooden chair The walls surrounding him have no mirrors and the windows are covered by the thickest blinds He doesn’t want to see his old age and the decay that already started consuming his body In his mind he’s still young, still in his early twenties still dreaming He’s listening to music He’s playing the music and it exhausts him The music comes from within An instrument with strings His growling guts He lubricates them with more beer
an old instrument with rusty strings

Great poem. The ever present battle between our youthful mind and our aging body. Take care. Scott
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(☞゚ヮ゚)☞ Thank you, Scott!
For some reason I find it very easy to imagine myself old. I’m only in my twenties though. Maybe when I’ll be older I’ll find it easy to imagine myself dead…
I heard the dead write good poetry ◉‿◉
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When you are older you only can imagine yourself young. Our thoughts don’t age.
Your poetry is great now. I hope you write for many more decades. 🙏
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༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ That’ll be my fondest dream as well.
Thank you, Scott!
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Beautifully penned 👌
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{\__/}
( • . •)
/>✒️ Thank you!
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Loved this Bogan. I have a ‘big’ birthday coming up next month but there’s no way to really celebrate beyond a long walk alone and maybe a video call. I’ll be lubricating my old strings with a beer or two, I can tell you!
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。◕‿◕。 Happy Birthday, Tom!!
A long walk alone and a beer sounds very good for a lot of people I know.
I don’t know what day in February is your birthday, but I’ll be saying “Happy Birthday, Tom!” every time I crack open a beer (It’ll probably happen daily, so I won’t miss it :))
Cheers! 。^‿^。
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Haha, I’m honoured that you’d put your liver through that for me… 🙂 I’m trying to wrack my brains about how to put the milestone into a poem I can post on the big day. Rusty strings an all!
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(\____/)
( ͡ ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡°)
\╭☞ \╭☞ Don’t worry, there’s nothing changing for my good ol’ liver.
At least now it’ll have a more noble reason to walk through the liquid fire…
It’ll be fine.
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Love the poem, Bogdan. I consider myself as a daydreamer as well. So, love your profile. I’ve started off with my own blog just yesterday. If you want, you can have a look. 🙂 Keep up the good work. Following you now.
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(⁎˃ᆺ˂) Awesome! Thanks!
Following you too ^‿^
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Thank you so much!🌻
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It’s like…you see my withered soul! 😄
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It’s like…you see right through me! 😀
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I put my alcohol steamed glasses on
(̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄
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Quite, quite lovely this one. Bravo!
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( ^◡^)っ Thank you, Jane
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Wow, awesome poem Bogdan and love the spoken word… It really gives it a beautiful affect. Age, growing old, a part of life we will all have to endure, but I don’t think we need to look upon on negatively. I think she, wisdom, experience, some wrinkles are very beautiful and inspiring 😊🌹
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(′ꈍωꈍ‵) Thanks
I hope I’ll make it to the old age resembling what you’ve so beautifully described.
At lest remotely ʘ‿ʘ
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Aww I hope so too… I too hope I grow old happy and satisfied with life 🙂
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Brilliant. I love the image of guts as strings.
I’m building a Facebook page, “Found Online,” where I can link to poems I really enjoy for others to explore. This poem is one I chose to link to. Check out the page at: https://www.facebook.com/joestoutfoundonline
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(っ◕‿◕)っ BIG THANKS, JOE!
Much appreciated. I’ll definitely check it out.
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Well done
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【ツ】 Thank you!
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You paint a good picture with this verse.
Art
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ミ ᕕ(ᐛ) ᕗ Thanks!
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Loved it!
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{\__/}
( • . •)
/>🎻 Thanks!
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Great poem
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(・◡・)ノ Thank you, Jay.
Much appreciated 🙂
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Interesting and beautiful poetry.
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(^o^)丿 Thank you!
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