I wonder just what it is that causes me to wither and fade, like forgotten flowers with no names. If age is it, then allow me to sidle up to you and we'll quote works from your favourite poets with 'Sorrow' looping faithfully in the background, and as sunlight bounces of your hair and casts a shadow on your gentle face, scarred and knowing.

I'm young yet dying. I'm clueless yet knowing. I'm afraid yet determined. I love yet I've lost. One more and i'll be gone for long.