As I try to pick a topic to scrawl upon this page,

I cannot help to think of how my mind has muddled with age.

It seems to me,

My train of thought has only gotten worse.

The clues are there,

It’s plain to see,

Every time I try to write a verse.

I used to read, when I was young.

I used to write as well.

But now at almost thirty,

You can hardly tell.