When I was the youngest & I was just able to think, I felt dead.
When I was a little older, I learned more & I felt dead.
People grow up, we all grow up.
We grew older, and some fell under.
Life continued and so did we.
Got a little older, learned to hate life.
Got even a little older, learned to hate people.
What happens next? I can't honestly tell you.
However, the pattern I see must be clear too.
Will I be the same when I get older? I don't know.
Maybe I'll finally reach the age when I'm not dead years old.
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