I think I was born tired

I think I must have been born tired and weathered and aged
A little girl three going on thirty they would say

Big eyes, weary eyes, 

The weight of the world

Did I ever have the joy of naive
youthfulness?
Was I ever big eyes clueless innocent
blissful? 

Maybe I was born before I was, frozen in
time watching the world go by,
becoming
aging
and then I was born

Big eyes heavy eyes
weight of the world

poem and art by Jennifer van der Merwe