Growing Old

In the corners of my mind
the cob-webs hang.
I hear only the echos
of songs I've sang.
Only the shadows do I see,
faded memories of how it used to be.

In the mirror,
the reflection is no longer mine.
All I see is someone silenced by time.
My hands lay still
as I have no one to hold,
because I grew alone
as I grew old.