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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2023881-Young-Hearts
by Mac1
Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #2023881
Young Hearts
Young Hearts

I've awoken this morning like thousands alike have passed,
the meadow was quiet and the grass was frosted... another cold day in paradise.

My vision was blurred and my days felt numbered,
as the cycle of life I envisioned year by year.

When your heart runs cold there is nothing left but hours in the day,
that are not even counted.

Appointments and deadlines,
fancy toys and bright lights allude your soul,
and always empty your heart.

What do you see when you look inside ,
where have your boyhood joys gone,
is this world so cold that it must break ones heart until there is nothing left but gain.
Why must the evil in us prevail.

And after I thought life was over and destiny awaited,
Your kind heart embraced my spirit,
suddenly I felt my Young Heart again.
A feeling I had forgotten as it was beaten out of my soul,
over and over again,
to the point where life became nothing but old promises that had to be kept.

How can this be, have I lost my mind.
How can one's eyes speak so loudly,
without listening to words.

Young Hearts are made from love ,
the kind you cannot explain ,
it's there with no reasons or explanations,
and if you are fortunate enough to find it,
you must grab it while you are able.
© Copyright 2014 Mac1 (mac1 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2023881-Young-Hearts