When.

When did I get old exactly?
When did my youth pass so far away?
Yesterday I was not so old
as I find myself this day.
Yesterday I was so young
I could run outside and play.

The cold it did not bother me
The world shined bright and new
So when exactly was it,
when did it all change,
when did shades of lemon pops,
turn to dull dark shady blue.

But wait.

Why should I accept this?
Is it not Me that makes Me old?
Do I just act the way in which
the world around expects?

Is it the grey
that's made me frey
my edges to unravel?

Is it the pain,
the daily strain,
my mind is truly baffled.

This, here, This, now,
My statement I shall make.
Old is something now I state,
that I refuse to be,
For everybody's sake.


Ok, so there's no more running.
But plenty of time for funning.

I shall take my grey.
I shall go and play.
I shall walk in cold and rain.

You can keep your old.