It's the last day of December.
That means tomorrow will be a new year
That means tomorrow will be new...
Some people love new things,
Some people enjoy discovering new hobbies or ways of life.
But what if I'm not that person?
What if I fear for the future?
What if I fear growing older?
What do I do now, being scared of growing up?
A lot of children wish for this,
Even I did at some point.
But I never wished for this.
I never wished for this fear,
This way of living.
I never wished to be scared of growing up,
Or being scared of trying new things.
I guess my wish never came true.
Or, perhaps it did,
But with a cruel twist.
Maybe I got my wish,
Of growing up,
But it turns out this is truly a curse.
YOU ARE READING
The Poet's Notes
PoetryA collection of poetry I've written in its purest form. From topics of Happiness and Sadness; Love and grief; life and death, all the poetry I've written.
