This is a work of non-fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the author's real experiences or a symbolic use of these said incidents. Please keep respect intact and refrain from rude and unnecessary comments and criticisms for all poems are bought by emotional and personal memories.
Copyright © 02-21-2014 by punctuations
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"I always thought growing up was a stupid idea," he said. "That you are determined by your thoughts and perspectives by your mere age."
"But if I let you see, would you try to understand?"
"Two decades; two hundred and forty months; seven thousand and three hundred days;
t w e n t y years . . .
Only a few minutes left, then."
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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
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Hey. I've been out for weeks, and I'm sorry for that. I don't want to talk of reasons, because they are just completely foolish.
Nevertheless, this story is a collection that I had started a few hours before my birthday. It is for my birthday, actually. But as some of you might know, I went out of the country on the weekend following my birthday, so I completely forgot all about this.
I finished the few ones just now, so here it is anyway, a few weeks late than it should be. It would be a collateral waste just to discarded, I presume. So better late than never, right?
(I should now start my shitty and extremely late birthday thank-you's appreciation jitters. Forgive me if this would suck.)
Thank you all for being a part of my twenty years of breathing air. I honestly wouldn't resume and struggle through my online writing ventures if it weren't for all of you. All your support had brought me an insurmountable kind of joy. Every word was worth it.
You are all lovely.
- Nate
YOU ARE READING
Twenty
Poetry❝ Blow out all the candles, you're too old to be so shy. ❞ © nate k. 2014