Reflection

The aged man observes the child,
Who also stares at him while hushed.
A cherub's smile adorns his face;
In pinkish hues, his cheeks are blushed.

He hasn't known the trials of life,
Too young to fully understand.
He seems content with life for now,
And play is all that he has planned.

The aged man would like to speak
And share his wisdom with the child—
To be the one who guides his steps
And shields him from the days defiled.

He knows the traps that lie ahead,
Aware of all the pits he'll face.
He wants to warn this gentle child
To wisely choose the dreams he'll chase.

He'd warn of friends he should avoid,
The treasured ones that he should keep,
The moments when he'll fall in love,
And all the days when he will weep.

He wants to be his guiding hand,
To offer wisdom gained with age.
He'd set his path toward the road
That leads to life and not to rage.

They share a sad, discerning gaze,
For they can see it is too late.
They know that time has passed them by,
And mirrors can't undo their fate.

Reflecting an uneasy smile,
Their hands extend and fingers graze.
The aged man then turns around
And leaves behind his shattered days.