The fear that one day,
All your loved ones will be gone,
Growing old,
The inevitable fate of it all.
The worry that one day you'll be alone,
Growing old,
Losing those who are close to you,
Becoming the last one standing.
A lonely fear,
Of becoming the final one,
No one left to remember you,
No one left to care.
----★----
This shit is getting sad
Jan. 15, 2024
YOU ARE READING
𝐎𝐡, 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥.
PoetryMy soul speaks as my soul will. Do not silence it. Some of those poems are just for fun but in the end, they were all written by me, so please don't take any credit from them 1k reads on 24.02.24
