A World I Don't Recognize

Maybe I am old and feel the cold, cold wind
Yesterdays details are a trail of tears

Maybe the Boastful men make me afraid
In a certain corner I hope to die

A chilling sensation that enters consciousnous
A sidewalk you skip upon but leads nowhere

Amputated thoughts
Dissected minds

My hands still work, but they shake
The job gets done through the earthquake

But my glasses are not on and I cannot see
The future that is not meant for me