Unwilling Youth

June 16, 2016

Growing old

Never seemed to be

So cold

Between my grasping for breath

And vivid dreams of my youth

But this is my

Truth

Growing old

Helped me envision

My many yesterday's of time

Shackled in the warm embrace

Of those exact yesterday's

Not worried

Of those tomorrow's

As I wished to

Borrow

More and more

Time

Growing old

Wishing to die young

Never really clung

I was here

For a reason

It being

I'm not sure

That meaning

I'm not sure

Growing old

Helped me grow wiser

Than any old fox

Could be

It helped me envision

More realistic dreams

Than those that seem

To won't come true

But I needed to stick to them

Like glue

Fix the pieces

Straighten them out

Just about

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.