Days grow long, nights grow cold, What will you remember when you’re old? Statues marble — figures hard, A spring of virtues over-tired. Words burn dry, Paint grabs dust, When will our metals turn to rust? Write it clear — say it loud, The meaning won’t get out. Touch the earth, know the dirt, Can you estimate its worth? Forms of man — crumbled waste, Only time knows its place. Feet on floor, lips on tongue, Who speaks in silent song? Hands as ice — legs mid-run, All are moving; all are numb. I’m seeing hollow, Seeing through, Peace in pieces, Safely new, Set your stage, play as you, Tell me stories, before they’re true.