When we are old,
no one can guess what we looked like,
in our young lives.
But only we will know,
and only we will carry the memories,
the laughs,
the cries,
the pain,
and the experience
of what happened.
So let us live in our skin now,
for when we age,
we will lose our appearance,
and wish we hadn't been in a rush to grow up.
//d.f.
YOU ARE READING
Voices
PoesíaVoices in my head, that need to be heard. Voices in my head, roam free, like a bird. *Book of poems written by myself.*
