Change.

I do not like change.


Lonely blow the winds of change,

they steal, ice cold through every hour,

what was is not, and cannot be.

All that’s left will fall away, leave

an empty shell of me.

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ifyouplease

very sad poem horrible when change is like that

supratik

This is an honest confession. What is outside of us changes. What is inside is unchangeable. Your title inevitably connects with the inside. Thank you for sharing.
Ssupratik