• luispabon 5w

    Aging As Drug

    The needle goes in slow
    Pumps up face muscle
    Fills up lined pore structure
    So no one knows how old we really are
    A tinkered mixture
    Some mask
    The silken liquid carries a secret
    Fountain full of saving water
    A cure that comes to rescue us from the spell of death we’re under
    We mix the dye
    That buries our dead
    Spin the paint
    Inside little plastic container
    Cosmetic coffin
    Where we bury the sin of grey inside ghost-stained graves
    Then we do a line
    Dispense the brown and white inside flimsy square box
    Align our beard
    With the dimming solution
    As the color is brushed intently into field of gray fibers
    We become slaves to a different plantation
    Rotating the crop formations on our heads
    A three card molly trick we use to gyp
    The ones who question our aging
    Tints do not tone us down
    As aging is a drug we all know all too well
    As we prepare ourselves for time
    Always taken for the ride of our lives.

    ©luispabon