I have faced more years than you
and still have not aged a day.
Despite elemental trickery,
the weather has yet to score me smooth
and there are no laughter creases
to mark me out as old.
I have never laughed you see,
at least not while you have watched.
I have passed the centuries
and they have passed me,
and very little has been worth talk,
and all my talk seems little worthwhile
when you and your kind wander
between what is left of myself
and my brothers,
just sitting here in a abandoned place,
no longer considered abandoned
but no longer a place to call home
but a place to see one or twice
before it has been seen and done,
you have bought the t-shirt
and I am of no more concern.
Poem for the poetics night prompt over at D Verse Poets Pub.