This morning I slipped on stairs

This morning, I slipped on stairs,

a sudden jolt, reminders of youth,

a faded soccer ball left alone,

its colors drained, a distant truth.

My knees buckle, like forgotten dreams,

echoes of laughter, vibrant shouts,

years that rush like reckless streams,

but now, it’s all just doubts.

Once I raced, wild and free,

but pain now bends my spine,

every creak a memory,

a ghost in every line.