We Grew Older Poem by Always Alone
We Grew Older
My conscience is unsettled… and my heart is not at rest.
I feel that I'm lost, that I've lost the key.
My thoughts are worried and my eyes don't sleep.
I feel, my daughter, that you are not yourself.
I sense that you're tired, that you're upset.
I see black clouds in your eyesthat rain worries, worries.
I could be wrong, or you could be wrong
.
Friday, May 27, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: conscience
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5/3/2024 11:44:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
