Years
Years
Years, seasons, past emotional fires, and cloudy loves
Happy times, months of grayness; everything changes
We can not stabilize our existence; we are only mortals
Nothing else
Nothing more
Our End is
The killer knife
Of the Time
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
