Old self

 Sometime in the middle my old self  went from

Youngest to oldest

And  friends turned into enemies while 

Flowers turned to empty stems with no bud

 while neat hair turned into loose hair that was swaying 

Into the wind  and  I was surrounded by the depth of jugement fear and hopelessness while the sun

Turned to rain while the morning doves soft and quiet pitch like a feather landing quietly   turned to the blaring sound  of my alarm 

While my old self faded away like the colors from a  old photograph turning to the 

Person i am today

My old self changed like the flash of a lightning bolt

So fast no one would even notice a bit.