Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
You're looking old, my friend, and if I may say, a little sad. Such is the nature of the honesty our chats have always had. And now your looking tired too, worn down, defeated. Where once I saw an extrovert, I now see a man retreated. The boy you used to be is gone, never to come back. The fresh faced look of yesterday, hides 'neath stubble, grey and black. The wrinkles now say character, where their absence once said youth, and eyes that once said innocence, now show experience and truth. That's not all, there's something else, as if a sadness shrouds your soul. hiding scars you cannot heal whilst two halves remain unwhole. But you know my friend, its up to you and the chances that you take, for our path is one we draw ourselves by the decisions that we make.
0
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 12:02 AM UTC
Old friend
You're looking old, my friend, and if I may say, a little sad. Such is the nature of the honesty our chats have always had. And now your looking tired too, worn down, defeated. Where once I saw an extrovert, I now see a man retreated. The boy you used to be is gone, never to come back. The fresh faced look of yesterday, hides 'neath stubble, grey and black. The wrinkles now say character, where their absence once said youth, and eyes that once said innocence, now show experience and truth. That's not all, there's something else, as if a sadness shrouds your soul. hiding scars you cannot heal whilst two halves remain unwhole. But you know my friend, its up to you and the chances that you take, for our path is one we draw ourselves by the decisions that we make.
Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins http://twitter.com/athomashawkins
a-thomas-hawkins
Written by
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 12:02 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem