back in our days of infatuation
with youth’s meaningless revelations
we’d all boarded together in celebration

but now soulless gluttonous sensation
and all manner of other forms of obliviation
became a train of hedonistic desperation

hurtling towards dead expectations
like your futile denial of deterioration
by the means of its exacerbation

a tolerance for senseless inebriation
a dubiously celebrated reputation
an artificial facade of rejuvenation

a million photos fit for publication
couldn’t photoshop the truth from your situation
couldn’t remove the date of expiration

so pray to the mirror for salvation
from your skin’s wrinkling reflection
and beauty’s final devaluation

up ahead i’ve seen the destination
and much as it might appeal to me, this temptation,
i must respectfully decline your invitation

i get off the train before it reaches the station.