The Year of My Birth – Poem

Near to Near,
The End is far.

Sparkling candles,
Hide the brooding thoughts,

I was seven,
I was naive.

The world was a horro movie,
Waiting in the shadows.

Not wanting to hurt any,
He smiled an innocent one.

Not for longer,
Not any longer.

For all the souls are drawn in,
Unknown to the evils,
He stood smiling out of love,
Under the window waiting.

Photo by Casey Murphy on Unsplash

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