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growing old

we lived our life and grown old
some would say where grew to bold
age and time attach like mold
now you gone there no one to hold
is it why my hearts gone cold
memory's haunting of of all untold

for growing old we will turn to dust
all our bones start to feel like rust
all our love was so robust
but in the end your heart will combust
to lose someone is so unjust

i write this for all of you
but my words are far to few
i hope you all will view
what i have said and love you all should pursue
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 19
About this poem:
am sad guys cant help it
writing crap all the time.
wish i was better at it

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Comments (2)

If you were telling your story with this poem, then I understand.

That is life some may say. banana
southmiami4321online today!
Alfred, I can understand how you feel and your desperation. Writing about it can alleviate your grief. Many of us are getting old on here, striving with illness, loss, financial problems...etc ..etc. Yet poetry fills us with joy and sadness as we all here share our gifts to communicate. Your words are natural and the point is to express your thoughts. Your poem growing old is pure. SMhug
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by alfred_tennyson (7 Poems)
on Jul 19
Last Viewed: Nov 26
Last Commented: Jul 20

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