march 24th

a poem


aren't i still too young to feel this old?
not as young as i hoped i could still be
i promised myself i wouldnt but have i sold
out to pay for reponsibilities
that threaten to drown as they enfold
am i too scared to let them fill me
scrabbling for a way to hold
on to my youthful sensibilities


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incidently i didnt run any of the way home - i cant help feeling my dignity has been salvaged only at the cost of a little part of my soul