I am weary and old,
In an untraditional sense
Sweet sixteen has closed its doors on me
Yet adult eighteen is not ready to greet me
Either way, I am old
And have always been
Old does not mean wise,
But weary
I am just seventeen,
But the questions are ceaseless
Life scares me to death,
Time pulls me closer
It scares me to think,
"These questions wont leave me"
Year after year,
I'll be clueless and lonely
In an untraditional sense
It is lonely within me
Questions, which **** me softly,
A cancer of my mind
Needing no one,
Because lonely is greater
Than human interaction
And "lonely" is "seventeen"
That goes on forever.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
I am weary and old,
In an untraditional sense
Sweet sixteen has closed its doors on me
Yet adult eighteen is not ready to greet me
Either way, I am old
And have always been
Old does not mean wise,
But weary
I am just seventeen,
But the questions are ceaseless
Life scares me to death,
Time pulls me closer
It scares me to think,
"These questions wont leave me"
Year after year,
I'll be clueless and lonely
In an untraditional sense
It is lonely within me
Questions, which **** me softly,
A cancer of my mind
Needing no one,
Because lonely is greater
Than human interaction
And "lonely" is "seventeen"
That goes on forever.
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