Beggars

We were young, like beggars out of time;
You for my youth, me for vanity,
As I still groom myself in hopes you might catch a glimpse of my face in your mind’s eye,
And know that your wife never looked as good as me when she was twenty.

I marvel that if your curiosity gets the best of you,
Then you peek over the fence between your world and mine,
You’ll find me lounging in a garden of my own creation,
Before I catch you in the act,
And bend over to remind you of what you’ve been missing.

You say that I have plenty of time left
To figure out what it’s like to be you when you’re alone,
But the reality is you set me on a path towards upmost sin and rage
The moment you turned my head to satiate your mouth
In my dorm room.

You’re a sensitive man, I know that.
I’m rather delicate myself,
Though while you weep for what you’ve lost,
I weep for what I have gained,
Yet have no desire to use.

I long for the days when I could forget you existed,
And told myself that I could thrive if you left,
Because now I find myself writing the story of your life
Just so I know I will have a chapter in it.

We were young, like beggars out of time.