Growth - Poem

 

Growth 

It is nature that we age with physique,
From the sweet voice that softened them
To a deep voice that threatens their supremacy,
A soul that desired to be cherished
To a soul that strives rigidly to be happy.

Is it certain to age with maturity?
From an acquitted heart for pumping blood
To a heart that is filled with relationship bruises,
Travelling on a curved road filled with holes
But the destination is filled with delightfulness.

We grow to thrive,
In the midst of our teething troubles
Music becomes cure to our misery,
Failure portrayed as a mountain
A man as a river flow,
without the force erosion, there is no way out.