the more you age
the more you keep things to yourself

old and new socks are mixed up in one wooden cabinet
somehow you are not using any

it is just the keeping for keeping sake
you are not thinking of any heir of any shoe

you begin to emphasize the importance of empty containers
how each must be filled

an empty cup must have coffee to its brim
an empty room must have someone to talk to

and empty road shall have at least one car making a dusty path
the empty stairs are too fearful to look at

how you hate an empty chair
it can make you sick if no one sits in there in another hour

the hours can be empty too
how can you stop the arms of the clock from taking away the sound
of ticking?

you are sensing a terminal
the train must be full so that you can never experience the
palpitations of being alone
you can hear it like the sounds of korean drums
the cascading waterfalls
the horns of taxis in city traffic

do not dare to stop the inevitable
i assure you... you can't. So? get yourself attuned

have an empty cup and learn to drink from it
you must feign the satisfaction of thirst, because

it can't be long.

RIC S. BASTASA

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-insecurities-of-aging/