What's gold

What's gold

in age

heavy with memories

yet light

when bygones be bygones. 

No holding now

No holding now

Time continues on

Richness aged.

And then it blooms

And then it blooms

when age stops to think

Too much, too much

over-thinking.

Darkness too

Darkness too

has colours

Age strides boldly

sets its eyes on the coloured.

The bad, the good

The bad, the good

The ugly, the lovely

to balance, and

nothingness

To end, what was and is.

Sometimes what's already in

Sometimes what's already in

Forgotten for what's not

Always for more and more.

Beads of the same

Beads of the same

Bathed in changes

Vibrant of what's past and gone

It's nothing, really

It's nothing, really,

Growing old,

till fussed.