(c)old

Birth to another stranger,
Who i may never meet.
Already tangled up,
From beneath the feet.

Fragile heart,
Ripped apart.
This stranger will grow old.
By know the meaning,
Of being cold.

Alone it sits.
Thought on "beautiful life",
All to bits.
Pieces of maturity.
Will this prove his purity?

His day has come.
Grim Reaper glimse in the sun.
Has he lived the life he promised his childhood friends?
Or did he just fucking fit it with the trends?