Who holds me now?

Now that I have grown

No more wombs for comfort

No more milk to strengthen me


To age is a lovely, lovely thing.


But to age can be a tragic..

Where time ticks, uncontrollably

As  one  tries  to  balance  with  time

They  often  loose  sight  of  themselves.




Anxiety, teaches us to trust.

After years  of  thought, thoughts.

We  learn  to  attract  and  trust  time

or learn to pretend we don’t hear it’s ticks






then time stops.






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Posted by:A'Isha Adams

Mind of a frantic poet. Ambition of an entrepreneur. The heart of an old soul.

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