Our youth is slowly taken by time, yet we all wish for a little more time

Our youth is pure,painful, and filled with sorrow

Our youth is like a blossoming flower that over time will slowly begin to age and finally ceased to exist

In our youth we slowly begin to wonder who am I? What is my purpose?

We slowly begin to choose  our predestine path

And live on with our  memory of our youth


This poem is about: 
Our world


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