Age
By pom99
Wed, 03 Sep 2014
- 2227 reads
6 comments
And sometimes you realize that old age is just the unravelling of yarn,
From a beautiful old sweater,
that made you look chic when you were young.
The strands of yarn loosen themselves to be their soft selves,
Shapeless and unassuming,
Waiting for kind hands to mould them
Into new threads of life.
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Comments
1 User voted this as great feedback
I love the idea of getting
I love the idea of getting someone else to help re-knit/re-mould a long tired life. Short but makes the point about age wel pom 99.
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1 User voted this as great feedback
Hi Pom, a warming poem and
Hi Pom, a warming poem and your woolley theme is a comforting one rather than the usual age-related negatives that creep into poetry. Unravelling's missing an 'l.'
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