An Ounce of Me

Down the memory lane,
Trodding past the childhood games,
I see a reflection of me,
Of how innocence in the eyes be framed,
Reflections that reverberate the self,
The glee with the mere thought of Santa and his elves.

Lanes traversed,
The mirror still reflects me,
They say it right,
It does speak for itself,
The eyes more docile,
The smile more submissive,
Real me? Only an ounce of it left.

I stare,
I search,
A superficial being it gives back,
A surprised hour glass,
Surprised , how fast slipped the sand.

I place my palms,
I'm taken aback,
How the lines defeated me,

I place my palms,
To save that ounce,
But the frozen mirror doesn't help.

With a tacit thought,
A Forced smiled,
I recapitulate,
With another deep breath,
One last try,
Of many chances i let go by,
One last try ,
For that little me,
For that ounce thats left.

By - S.S.