The young is oldA Poem by Kaelee WyantIt kind of shows things growing older if you look at it in a weird way
The night is young
The hands are old Winters warm And summers cold Babies talk The old man cries SInking sorrows And he dies Filled with joy Filled with fear Minutes hours Year by year Going on But soon will stop Lift you high But then you drop © 2013 Kaelee WyantAuthor's Note
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AuthorKaelee WyantPunxsutawney, PAAboutI don't show myself to people. If you want to really know me read my poems/lyrics/whatever else I upload. If you look at my pictures the smiles fake but what else is new. I love poptarts and apple jui.. more..Writing
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