John Tottenham

I seemed to have always been the same age.
Then I looked in the mirror and saw a tired
and devious old man gazing warily back at me.

An old man, alone in a room, masturbating over a memory,
fantasizing about women who have forgotten about me,
and brooding over deliberately missed opportunities.

A shadow of my former shadow
slowly becoming invisible, turning gray.
Unfortunately, nobody noticed
that I never went away.