Section of Dead Times and Poets

24

24 hours a day,
24 years elapsed.
The same amount of time has passed between the 18th birthday and the 30th birthday.
Time no longer plays a role,
It is already a sequence of moments,
whether you want it or not.
It's a series of encounters with people who will disappear from your life anyway.
It's just a few more tears to shed.

It's planning a big event every year,
every year these numbers are supposed to be happy.
But every year there are more disappointments.
On the one hand, every year everything changes,
On the other hand, most of these changes come naturally,
because they are not dependent on you.

I routinely rub my eyes that day to look around....
My peers are having children, getting married, fulfilling their dreams.
But in my mind I am in the depths of the abyss, where the only ray of light is hope,
even though in their minds I am light years ahead of them.
Here I am able to account for the passage of time,
You are the witnesses.
This year I have come to write these words, is this my salvation?
Reputations have fallen, even residual friends don't know about the poems.
But sometimes it takes silence for something to awaken.
I don't expect you to understand.