I'm at that heavy age.
When losing people becomes a norm.
An Aunt. An uncle.
A grandma. A friend.
I'm at that age.
Where I see my parents cry for losing their kin.
I'm at that age.
When I don't know whether to comfort or simply stay silent.
I'm at that age.
Where death doesn't cut directly but hurts indirectly.
I'm at that turn.
When I'm going to realise that someday, somehow the people close to me might die.
I'm at that age.
Where my heart is heavy and my head is bowed.
For the respect towards all of my people is from within.
I'm at that age.
When I don't know how to cut my loses.
So I stand.
And I pray.
That someday I might grow out of this never ending stage.
For I'm at that age.
YOU ARE READING
Of poems and thoughts
Poetry"My nana always told me. Lock your heart away before the big bad wolf comes to play. But what happens dear nan when I seem to have lost the key?" "Of bullets and shards. Of rubbers and ice. Of places and homes. Of broken ties that I cant seem to fi...
