The Lost Poet

The end is far.

At 5, a change of life.
Outside was different and
Inside was New.

At 10, less than few friends.
Outside was still different and
Inside was still New.

At 12, I understood.
Outside wasn’t mine and
Inside was more than fine.

At 14, a change of life.
Outside was warmer and
Inside was darker.

At 16, my friends weren’t there.
Outside I was lost and
Inside I was a ghost.

At 17, a change of life.
Outside was New and
Inside there was some light.

At 18, I realized.
Outside wasn’t for me and
Inside was all on me.

The end is far. I won’t destroy it,
My fate is made and
I won’t Interfere.

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