With Age Comes.

[Beoslasher]

Its my first poem in a long time, I hope you enjoy it, and can take something with you from it.

 

Miles.

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Age is a chain, a leash,

that binds us to the skin we live within.

A black sky, not blue,

a reminder of ends.

 

Age is a dog, that withers and dies

A chain did choke a life from its eyes.

My dog just died, not three days ago, and

it makes me think about getting old.

 

So I begin thinking about the body and mind.

How we begin to grow and then wither and die.

We are like a flower, bloom and then wilt.

Only to regrow in times iron tick.

 

So should I look forward to a life full of bliss?

One that contains so many hardships?

Remain in a room gathering age?

 

No! I wont stay in a room holding dust

My life is worth using, no use to sit tucked

in a corner, useless, afraid

of what may come, an end of my days.

 

So with age comes glory

comes chapters and endings

a book with no cover, not yet bound, or constrained.

I have found the key that will break from the chain.

Just look at your life like you did as a babe.