I used to think so highly of aging, what could be

More pleasant than slowly settling into that best version

Of yourself, what could be more exhilarating than looking back

On all those steps and mountains and hardships 

You’ve climbed, but now, as I’m slowly approaching

To what I presume to be the halfmark 

I noticed my everyday face had set and hardened

And it isn’t one I care for anymore

Image @ unsplash