Methuselah:

[billy]

Hollow halls and broken windows,
an empty convict, a worn out cell;
age counted on brick and bar.
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A psychology degree
makes understanding understood.
It doesn't stop time.
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The mind clock tick tocks
erases the sweet things
the humble kick-starts.
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I forgot who they were.
Why the who of me exists;
I don't remember how to cry.
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minor edit done on the basis of Aish's feedback (didn't warrant a full edit)

[Aish]

Am so very intrigued by this, Billy.

Quick notes, love the visual tick marks and overall melancholic vibe.

Shall return.

[Aish]

Full of hollow halls and broken windows, Should there be an introductory line before this one? Or perhaps take out 'Full of'?
an empty convict, a worn out cell;
age counted on brick and bar. I like this line. It sets up the remainder of the poem.
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A psychology degree
makes understanding understood.
It doesn't stop time You need punctuation after this line. Good tie-in to the following strophe.
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The mind clock tick tocks
erases the sweet things I am really enjoying this strophe.
the humble kick-starts.
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I forgot who they were.
Who the why of me exists; Should this read 'Why the who of me exists'?
I don't remember how to cry.
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[billy]

yes on all points. i think the first line works either way but i like your way best.

thanks for the feedback Aish

[Aish]

You are most welcome. Thank you for being open to my prattle.

[Wildcard]

Billy,
Reading this gave me the feeling that a once very intelligent sould is losing his marbles, his memory or both. Is he literally locked up? I'm not sure because of the 'broken windows' part.

It doesn't stop time.
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The mind clock tick tocks

I love how you have inserted this momentum into your work. It pulled me over and reminded me that the poem was going somewhere.

The mind clock tick tocks
erases the sweet things
the humble kick-starts.

(I get a little confused reading this. I see the mind erasing good memorys and maybe describing them as happening in the beginning)

The last part (if I am understanding it correctly) feels very sad to me. Like he has forgotten where he came from; like it may have never been real . . .

Awesome job and I'm jealous of your imagination.

[heslopian]

This is an excellent poem Billy. The refrain is inspired. The lines seem comprised of simple images joined to make a darkly seductive whole. Splendid. Wish I could give you some criticism, but for what it is it's perfect. Maybe you could put a comma after each of the third stanza's first two lines. The syntax there runs on a bit.

[peter6]

Billy,
Well done. Very imaginative. One line clanks for me.
"I don't remember how to cry."
I sense what you are going for here, (I don't feel anymore. I am numb) can't put my finger on what is not working for me. Wish I could be more articulate about this.
pete

[billy]

Aish, you're more than welcome, i love your prattle

AA. thanks for the reply. the context of the poem is held in it's title;
The last part (if I am understanding it correctly) feels very sad to me. Like he has forgotten where he came from; (a good assessment)

Jack; thanks for the kind words i'll have a mull over the comma's

Peter, welcome to the fold, it really is great to see you try your hand at giving feedback
i'll take a good look at the line you mention when i do an edit and see if i can improve what i was trying to say.

thanks to everyone for taking thier time to read and comment