Twenty Three - Poem by Stephanie Daniels
The musty smell of twenty three years
Now stares me in the mirror.
Alone without fear
Knowing that the end is near.
Who's to say that older is wiser?
When here I am; foolish
Doing what I shouldn't
Other's thinking I wouldn't
Bring me the breaking day
Of the day I should leave
And happier still I wouldn't be
Why are the good things sometimes so hard to see?
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