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morallygray Feb 2019
I miss all of those who I have forgotten
All those friends I left at the age of 12
Their young faces cemented in my memory; that is all I will remember of them

As I grow older
My thoughts get younger
Fleeting time equals new found regret
My knees fail and my face sags

I will become just a statistic
I will be an ignored grandfather in a retirement home
I will be another cloud soldier with no name
I think I am OK with that.
morallygray Feb 2019
In a hole playing with toy guns
Childhood caressing me
In a hole wielding a shovel
Adulthood killing me
In a hole where I am pale
Death saving me

— The End —