'tis no use, a title of achiever,
even God, no one could ever tell,
these wings bound to get weaker,
I watch all their flights doing well,
shed blood to survive the storms,
I did—and almost sold my soul,
but all attempts deemed a forlorn,
I see—the edge of my pedestal,
how this life's no good to me,
but so glad 'tis on your side,
and I owe you all, honestly,
the help when my fate subsides,
my end nears, I hope yours don't,
anytime, my dear, I'll slip away,
I can't crack no more bones,
my shine for years, surely frails,
I may die a hero of nothing,
but through wars, I was with you,
my concrete future's ripping,
maybe a false, or a killer truth,
so will I, cheer for you and all,
promise me to thrive still if I go,
can't wait to see you stand tall,
for you are all the best, I know.
YOU ARE READING
turning 21 (Completed)
Poetry8th Poetry Anthology here are the poems I wrote as I take a step further away from my youthful days. my 8th anthology... turning 21 🤍✨ Date Published: April 21, 2024
