They say,
20s are about finding your soul.
They’re about,
Festivities, fornication, friendships,
Frolicking, finding freedoms,
Finding yourself,
Helping, hoping, holding onto things,
Letting go,
Hungering for happiness,
Juxtaposing juvenile values
With mature morals,
And now, at 22,
I can say,
“I am a citizen of a world
Where the glory for gold seems
Out of step
With the visions of God.”
There’s a place in my memory,
An awful waste of space,
Analogous to a perpetual prison,
Where
Regrets are kept alive,
And over time, morph into dementors.
Eclectic group of Soul snatching villains
That bankrupt me of emotions
And other fragile treasures:
Innocence, naiveness, sincerity,
gullibility, and optimism.
If the mind was a farm,
They’ve neither cropped bitterness,
Not razed faith.
They have sown principles
I reap daily and thrive off of.
For they are my teachers.
More at http://www.about.me/C.Hemsley.
