clocks on the walls

have you forgotten that you grow older?

need I remind you

of the days where your feet swung high

above the floor of your old red car?

need I prod you

to remember when only your eyes were visible

in the bathroom mirror

and you dreamed of the day when your whole face would smile back at you?

you used to walk to school every day

balancing on the concrete beams, only touching sky

in your swirling head.

Sometimes you fell

and you'd fly back up again.

you used to play among fairies.

remember?

and you grew so very much

you could see your chin peek up in the bathroom mirror,

and you could taste the sky in flavors of ink

in context of paperbacks and hardcovers.

All high and mighty, you were. you would conquer the world.

You climbed towers, and these werent figments of your vivid imagination

they grew

and then became figurative as the world crashed

down

down

I watched you sink.

but you got up again.

you picked yourself up, dusted off the mess and the dirt

crumbling from proud buildings

and you kept going

and growing

the mirror started to serve its purpose

and the driver's seat became your very own.

do you not recall

all that it took to get here?

clocks on the walls keep on ticking

the mistakes you make may keep on pricking

your hair won't stop growing

the wrinkles start showing

but you?

keep growing.