getting old

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  • Sadness

    getting old

    i must except this life i live, even if age has taken it toll on me . no longer am i sixteen and in love with the world , no longer in love with what i see around me . i live my life so free and at ease, never watching what was happing or worrie about everything . i let life slip by me , i drank and smoke and did whatever i could do to be in the in crowd. all my friend,s that use to gather around me, now can,t be found . alone , alone , no longer with my head in the cloud,s , no longer having fun in the in crowd, a old age is what i,m now .

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    angie316’s Poems (4)

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