Tuesday, November 08, 2005

My Countenance

Typical mid-teen frustration. I found that I am clearly not a kid anymore and was a tad scared of growing up not knowing what life had in store for me. The following verse came straight from that confused teenager's concerned heart.

My Countenance (1991)
The time flew, never to return,
Stealing from me my own grace;
The glossy skin and radiant eyes
No more form part of my face.

The limpid glory has run away
Leaving on me an awful taint;
Envenoming the softness of my skin
And pouring on me an ugly paint.

Though a lad, and pretty innocent,
I could in a moment learn a score;
But today this insipid world has made
Even the most interesting a bore.

Ennui in me has taken birth
So, I leave even the best behind;
Oh! How I wish my face to relume!
For, the face is the index of mind.

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