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Can something old ever
Give the same pleasure
With something newer?
Isn’t always
The young one better?

Something not familiar
Attracts you with power
Promises predictable fear
Makes your heart beat faster

Oh the poor old!
Neither shiny nor strong
Only seems unusual and cold

A love getting older
Slowly rottens, surrenders to wrinkle
Needs to be searched stronger
In order to find its sparkle
Faults and scratches as the surface of moon
Lovers it voraciously like the day of doom

Even though it’s ordinary and pale
It’s going to be always there
The ugly roots you can not see
Makes the old one protect thee

Every new, eventually
Gets aged, as its destiny
So is not this a victory
For the Old?
Fortunately…

Old Love… Old Love… Old… Old…
Old Love…

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