Growing Old

Growing old…..
I play the piano but no one listens,
I sketch but no one looks,
I write but no one reads,
I speak but no one hears,
I smile but no one sees,
I live but no one knows,
When I die I will leave no trace….
No footprints on the world.

by heather sweeting

Comments (1)

You've already left a footprint. All of your poems are footprints and are here in cyberspace waiting for everyone to find. Your title Growing Old intrigued me because just a few days ago I wrote a poem about getting old also. It's called Inevitable. By the way, I have a sister who was born the same year as you were. She's a much better poet than I am but hesitates to post anything here because once they have been published she can't enter them into contests, and she has won many contests with her poems.