I left in 2020, back in 2016,
Another year forward,
Another year backward,
What does it matter to me?
I have travelled back,
To see what I could see.
I helped push the boxes
That made Boston tea.
I left in 2020, back in 2016,
Another year younger,
Another year older,
What does it matter to me?
I have travelled forward,
To watch the world burn.
Ah, but I'll die
We all have a turn.
I left in 2020, back in 2016,
Another year here,
Another year there,
What does it matter to me?
YOU ARE READING
Pulvis et Umbra
Poetrywe write our stories on the silver black clear canvasses of our lives these are my stories i build them so you can relate and perhaps we won't be so alone *** "I really love these poems. They help me find myself in worlds where there is no one lef...
