Is nothing earned,
How I love to toil away
In the name of vain,
How I wish
I were sane,
Maybe rather than run
I would get something done,
But I wasn't
Meant to succeed,
I wasn't written to
Live an exciting life,
I can't even live
I can't even breathe
Out of line,
All this goes to show
Is that I'm running out of time,
You can't help me
You can't stop me
From growing up.
Growing ever older,
Growing ever colder.
As the sun leaves my sky,
I oft wonder,
Is this our last meeting
Before I die?
I may not look it,
But I'm that old.
Maybe I didn't mean to,
But I became that cold.
YOU ARE READING
The Songs of The Gullible Wiseman: The Early Poems of Maddy Kobar 2008-2013
PoesiaA young writer's newly released first collection of poems. Written during the tumultuous and at times troubling years of high school and the more forgiving and enlightening years of college, Maddy Kobar captures what it was like to have come of age...
