I often feel so tired, and so old,
Because I am surrounded by the young.
They're always so; I feel my limbs grow cold,
And still they chatter on with aimless tongue,
For college is a constant, single age,
While those of us who teach it fade away
As quickly as the turning of a page,
And it will not be long 'til yesterday
Is gone far out of memory, while still
They will be young and laughing. I can see
A road ahead that, tread it how I will,
Leads on beyond coming maturity
Into senescence, while they stay the same.
And yet there's no one but myself to blame.
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