Nostalgia

I've lived
such a long
life I can't
distinguish nostalgia
from haunting. The
daunting voices have
become taunting
images, the taunting
images have become
diluted with time or
maybe I've grown,
I've out grown matters,
so things that meant alot
to me, those problems
have become laughter.
In old age you save your
tears or they run dry, the pain
you felt before seems to be a smirk,
which turn into a laughter of cry. My views
on things have changed, my fight for
policies and fair acts that roared like
a lion has become soft and quiet like
snow flakes in a forest, at some point
in your life you realize people are only
for change if they're for it, but if
what you're saying is truth they'll ignore it...