waking up to grey faces hovering over you saying,
you’re too old for this aren’t you?
too young to ask these questions
and too old to want these answers.

you’re too old for this aren’t you?
we know you know but your feet don’t move
like they used to anymore and your brain doesn’t
start like it used to anymore.

and the grey faces turn red and angry and say,
you’re too old for this aren’t you?
here, give me your hand,
i’ll drive from here on out,

you’ll see,
you’ll see,
when you’re grey and wrinkled,
you’ll be glad that you
became old early on.

you’ll see,
you’ll see,
when you’ve lost all strength in your legs,
you’ll be glad
that it was not your own strength.

and the red faces turn blue and say,
this is your fault,
only the living
get ill.

you are sick,
you are sick,
you must not lie in bed too long,
dreaming about the sun and stars,

you must not stare too long
at the trees or the ocean,
you must not care for the flowers,
you must focus on what’s real.
for you are sick.

then the blue faces turn pale,
and i think,
can’t a man get his rest
without being bothered
by a hundred reflections.

and my own faces look at me
and do not recognize me,
and they say,
aren’t you too old
to be scared of the dark?

waking up to grey faces,
you are too old,
you are too old,
are you not?
you are too old to wish for life.

waking up to grey faces,
and my own face,
you are too young,
you are too young,
to be waking up to grey faces.

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Tyler Baigrie is a Toronto-based poet and writer. With influences such as T.S Eliot and Sylvia Plath, Tyler’s poetry explores mental illness, disillusionment, and forms fragmented pictures that can only be understood through art.