My life is changing
like the four seasons,
though without any reason —
I find myself scared of it.
Change, it’s a horrifying but beautiful thing.
Like in the early mornings of spring,
the birds begin to sing,
but soon enough they leave,
taking their song with the warm breeze.
I wish for things to stay the same,
but I know everything is always evolving,
like the stars above.
Mountains made of icy sand,
The sun peers down onto the land.
A mirror casted upon the ground,
As winter silences every sound.
Whispers so cruel flood the news,
Filling many hearts with fear.
Some listen to only what they want to hear.
Their denial leaves a black and blue bruise.
Sitting in uncomfortable silence,
We wait for our problem to be solved.
Changing my habits, I hope and hope.
We have been given so much,
And we have taken so greedily.
Caring is beyond so many, it seems.
Comments
The only constant in life is change: I have to remind myself of that nearly every day. But sometimes -- sometimes! -- it is a great comfort. With sort of with the same meaning as, This too shall pass, I suppose (I'm full of cliches today). So when you say it is both horrifying and beautiful, I think that's exactly the way to put it. Likening your life changes to the ephemeral quality of the seasons (joy in the form of birdsong, joy taking its leave) is sage.
Log in or register to post comments.