Here we are at the starting line,
Where people thinking about their future to be align.
They're walking with slow pace,
I stood there like I have a tangled lace.
They say 'Life is not a race',
That we should trust the 'small progress'.
Yet, I am standing with people passing by,
Hesitating to take even one step; I cry.
It's like I'm glued in this place,
Being stuck is what I called 'escape'
To reality where people my age-
Finding a way to get out of their cage.
Life is not a race,
You'll always see the end.
But how can I get to the finish line
If I can't even cross the starting line?
-Am I the only one who felt like my life has stopped and I don't know how and where to start again? :((
YOU ARE READING
Poems
Poetryoh this is not a story really, I just want to share with y'all my written cringy poems 😁 Here, I can freely post the poems I wrote without thinking of criticism from my relatives. Thank you! ❤️
