The Surrender.

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Blog Post About This Poem.

Ah’, one day old age may violently rip me apart,
But about that day every day, I write a new joke,
And make the world laugh and along I laugh too,
Hiding the hidden sadness with pretty smiles.

There are those who say age is just a number,
Like a grammar corrector, I tell them age is history,
A dreamless silence that forever as a constant remains,
In memories, unforgettable, understanding, and unforgiving.

Every bit of those loveless and sad memories slowly filled,
By an everlasting spring with colors and flowers filled,
Though from every flower fell the melting mist like teardrops,
They all reflected the love-filled light of your soul, Little Boss.

And never will I cry in grief for in mind filled the love-filled light,
Of your soul, through known and unknown senses conquered mine

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