She sits alone
not because she has no one,
but because she's old and no longer fun.
She hangs out with those half her age because they're the only ones around.
She lost her groove a long time ago and it has yet to be found.
She's enchanting because she's real,
not particularly attractive, but her eyes make you feel
and her voice has that appeal.
I wish I had seen her in her prime.
I bet she had a way of making folks laugh all the time.
I bet she had a great smile.
I hate that time can steal that away.
If only we never lost anything when we aged.
If only we always liked how we changed.
Now it's like she's invisible.
People look right through her.
All she wants is to be seen as real.
I feel sorry for her and the way she feels,
but then I remember that my own were invisible for hundreds of years.
This isn't a new tragedy.
Society must find someone to cast out
and they chose those that have aged like her
once they embraced the ones that look like me.
Perhaps we all pay our dues and take our turn
before the world decides we've earned
a place in their minds and eyes.
Then they transfer their blindness to those from other places and times.
I pray that the cycle is breaking
with the collective tolerant breaths we've been taking.
This world must begin changing,
lest this breathing become a massive suffocating.
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