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What, shall I fear the veiled unknown? To die and pass the mortal shroud They say ascencion through the cloud Will whisk me to the Gloried Throne, But what awaits? No tongue has told
GROWING OLD(ER) ~ By Debi Lyn
Maybe it was just this year I suddenly became old. Old hit me with crying over Facebook videos in the middle of the night.
It is amazing How one thing Can trigger multiple Memories A scent A place A song A person An object AAnd what happens To those memories When we get older
Black and white pictures of the past. Time was moving so fast. I learned how to cope.How to be happy in the little time i had left. I know i cant go back to when i was small.
A silver hair spins a thousand tales unspun. It comes, drifts, sinks and leaves, Blinded by what it thinks, hears and sees. In a world where the two, seeks the one.
The stairs are me, the floor is me, the chair itself resembles me The hinges are undoubtedly me. I’m rusty, old, creaking along, falling apart, painfully slow. Each step echoes loud, every day asks for effort.