What's the point of growing old,
when fun is limited to our childhood?
It seems the older we get,
the more our lives revolve around work and money.
Not happiness,
not living.
We turn into greedy people,
we do anything for a quick buck.
We live for money,
not ourselves.
We tend to forget we're here only here once,
and we have to leave our mark on the world while we're alive.
Money doesn't tell death to wait to make its move,
so while you're still here,
live your life.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry 1.0 (Completed)
PoetryAll of these are poems that I've written, and they are sorted into the order that I wrote them, so if you feel some of them are amateur-ish or bad, read the newer ones, or even check out my newest work in Poetry 2.0 :)
