I gaze at my hands and as I look, I see lines, where did those come from?
The mirror reflects my hair is turning white.
The aches and pains I have when I wake, didn't used to be there.
Time is our enemy, it is also our closest ally.
As the years have changed our bodies, so it has changed our minds.
Some grow cynical, some depressed.
There is wisdom in age, do not turn it away.
Nothing seems as important as it used to be.
The life and death situations we never thought we would live through are gone.
Now we sit and the only sound is the clock ticking in a house once full.
Everyone has gone their own way, this is how we raised them.
Yet there is a ache, of memories, of how we held our young.
What we would give to turn back time.
We never realized how precious those years were, until now.
If I look deep I can still see the youthful hand I had.
If I look deeper still, I can see my children playing.