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Time's tryanny washes out our colour.

Slowly turning everyone,

into somebody else,

a faint reflection

They wouldn't recognise

In their own adolescent mirror.

Reduced, like a recording of your own echo

Busy chasing dreams

that weren't even our own

Til we're so lost

We don't know the way home

And then, honey...

There's you!

Every year an upgrade.

Every birthday not diminishing,

But refining

Honed and sharpened,

Into the perfect realisation

Of yourself.

Taking your own cutting edge

And sharpening it further

It's exhilarating to behold

In someone you love

But heartbreaking

When it's the hand

you used to hold.