Tuesday 28 February 2017

when you were young poem

It doesn't make sense
nothing at all
the way we all- seem to fall
when the building blocks they taught us to build
come tumbling down,
all around- it's just a mess

No matter what
some things, are just
the way you never thought they'd be
once when you were young
never again, will you be so conned
those building blocks can't build a home
and nothings the same as the way you thought
back when you were young.


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