She is young,
but she carries the soul of an old woman,
and longs for what has already come to pass.
She longs to feel;
to love,
fear,
live.
Grasping tightly to time,
Like water,
It leaks from the crevices between her fingers.
And like a memory—
a beautiful memory—
She longs for it to stay.
for it not to slip away.
She longs to understand why.
Because to understand means
she would not have to hold onto time
any longer.
But then the years passed her by,
and steadily-
her feeble hands released their grip,
Allowing the time she held so firmly
to fall
into the winding
river that rushed
before her.
An old woman now held the soul of a young girl, and at last,
she understood.
S.H
YOU ARE READING
Letters to the Old Soul
PoetryThis book was written for the girl with an old soul. my journal full of memories and stories; These poems are honest and true of the wonders and scary things that occur in life as one grows older. These are the documents that illustrate the evolutio...
