17.

I saw the eyes of a boy, in love with his golden blue box.
Noon --- Still, I look at him.
His hairline panic back, wrinkles grew.
On that day I turned 20, I never saw him again.
And all dreams of that boy in love with that golden blue box stopped coming.

Just how will I live my life?

Blind by the bright colors, hidden in the dark shelves.

Between those who are walking, those who follow --- and the dying.

Questions with little detail, lost in time.

You see the answers lazy on the tip of crystal flames, trapped within.