Youth dribbles
out of me
like water
through a sieve.
I look in the mirror
and observe my mother's
legs, ankles, hands
and lines.
Refusing to see them
like I did
as a child.
A sign. A message
from time.
Now struggling
to survive
so foolishly,
as if I,
could be
the only one alive
who can cheat, defeat
and defy the
true destiny
of life,
to die.