The prospect of time

always teases me around this period of the year. Another age is becoming of me,

it’s never exciting. There are bonds in these little numbers that hold our life together,

a prisoner to these fates. Even when I was younger it never made me smile,

why is that? Why does this day of birth provoke me with death…   

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s