#Day 653: Aeons And Age

I couldn’t possible have known
What it means to be in love;
At tender, young fourteen.
But at awkward, strange seventeen
The silence is loud and it shouts
Into my ear like a siren;
About all those silly seconds
I wasted, thinking it was not real.
And when at rebellious fifteen;
We fought for a first time,
I knew it was bigger than my thoughts
But for seven months it went on
Screaming and crying under the covers
Infatuated teenager they said to me
Get over it, it’s a phase, it’s just your age
So when at sixteen we were over
And the roads were parted,
The ways were changed
Why did I feel like I was seventy and old
I felt withered and grey, balding and weak
But honey, now I know at seventeen
It was honest, a real sheen
And even at eighteen, I’ll dream
Of a love that feels silly and naive.
The youth will never die out,
We just won’t be novices anymore.

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