• fourth_of_july 14w

    Bond and Age

    As I am growing older,
    With each passing day.
    I have become wiser,
    But not enough.
    The wings weighing alot,
    But still giving me flight.
    I looked back,
    And saw nothing but just
    chained sickles.
    I cried and cried alot more,
    The only way out,
    Was to trade all of me,
    And more the trade was
    To be alive yet not
    Remain alive,
    To see but not touch.
    To listen but not speak.
    To love but not return.
    To cry and not wipe your tears.
    ©fourth_of_july