Aftermath I am 15 years old, not much, but not little. Some people say I still should be beware of a knife. Well, if so, I agree - I'm still a boy, not a man, and that's bitter, But I am old enough to understand the damn rules of life. I'm old enough to know that people are heartless and mean. I understand that everybody have a will to survive. I do know what's love, but what does it mean? And I also know that there's no chance to revive. I've met a lot of people, some were "good", some were "bad". I watched them rise and I witnessed their fall. They might curse at me, but I will not get mad. They are still indefinite in their life, but I know my role. I'm vigilante at night, but a fool at daytime. I am too timid to be heard, but never not needed. I wrote a poem, where words do not rhyme. I called it "My Life", and it's very rigid. My classmates, my friends, the people with whom I grew up, They called me to celebrate our graduation. When they were about to go, I asked them to hold up, I said: "I owe you so much...." - words, with no clarification. It was a pretty good party, they were on the same wave. They were, but not me - I was deep in my thoughts. I thought about time, the time that I lost, and the one I now crave, As Greeks believed, life is a thread, yet mine got a billion knots. I've done too much things, which I really regret. I didn't really thought about the consequences. I've done it subconsciously, but I will not bet, That so were the people, who gave me mean glances. I live my life as I want to, and I always chose the easiest ways. I made a lot of friends, but with who now I talk? I remember the times, when there always someone to talk, yes, those were good days, But now I'm 15, and I know how do life work. Это потому что моя совесть не разрешает мне выставить ни единой фотки, которые я сделал на выпускном.

Теги: life poem regret

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