Born Golden
Born golden,
I cried , smiled , laughed
Then ran ,walked , talked
Innocence was my gift stolen
By the cloud dressed in black
Known as growing up
The old trap
As leaves turn golden before winter
Is approaching,
Humans are natures' controversy,
As we are born golden then
Turn cold and selfish,
Just like the colour grey
Unknown of it's real presence.
Yet frozen
I cry, smile , laugh
Then run , walk , talk
Still the same.
But no longer golden.
Andrea Beyer
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