That thing we call age

There’s milestones for everything

To help keep track of time

That more and more seems to pass

Far faster than it should

Time flies by

As my face changes

Stretches my limbs and dims the grin

Of a child whose world was wide

Little by little

Day by day

Upwards and onwards

Getting caught in the fray

Age is the build-up of experiences

The ways something has changed

Quick, fleeting moments

That show so much all the same

It’s hidden in firsts, that thing we call age

The first curse my mother said

And didn’t immediately regret

The first time she let me leave

And didn’t come along to check

The first time I turned a deaf ear

And later a blind eye

Lied to someone’s face

To cover another’s mistakes

The fists discussion with my father

That made me start to cry

Because politics and family are never easy

Even less with what’s on the line

Some people become diamonds

When the pressure begins to crush

But their glare is always blinding

And I’m not quite that strong

Like clay I mold

Into the area made for me

Little people and large buildings

Life as far as the eye can see

Until we wither away

The end of the game

The curtain call of the play

The final milestone