My outstretched hands old,
The wrinkles shriveled in the dark,
The Earth firmly in my palm,
My life was given a mighty spark,
The air was cold,
The cave gave me assurance,
My old skin grew weary,
But I was still able to prance,
My mind stayed in the globe of old,
Yet my body slowed within the bubble,
I saw the patrons leave one by one,
But only I saw all of their troubles,
I sat behind patiently,
Waiting, watching, aware,
They turned to see my blank face,
Yet they never knew why I did stare.
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