Youth is a beautiful place,
where you lay all your predictions and
stand tall in the face of truth.
You are never as clear and certain of what is yet to be
You are never as prepared to die as when you are full of life
You are never as old as you are
at 23.
Listen to your youth screaming
in the back of your lazy grey,
you'll never be as much ~
What is predicated
eventually comes true,
one day too late.
On my youth,
heavy rock.
I laid you beneath the stars,
too far to be reckoned with.
The dark skies followed
shades,
you drowned all too quick.
You didn't know how to begin.
Remember,
it was not your fault.
You stood tall,
You did not conform,
You did not turn into me.
You just happened for a moment
and then you disappeared.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An insightful poem nicely put together with conviction. Thanks for sharing and do remain enriched.
Thank you, I appreciate it [3