About 28



What about twenty-eight?
Nothing much, actually.
Same old dreams, same old fears.
Just a chapter closed, for another to begin.
Same old city, same old me.
Just windows closed, for doors to open.
What about it?
It’s just a number anyway.
And just like that same old song,
Old at heart, but I’m only 28,
I’m much too young to let love break my heart.
Yet another season will always come.
And who knows,
Maybe I got lucky next time.
Maybe I got it right next time.
And for now,
I will just enjoy my time,
And all things I’ve been given,
And all things I’m about to create.
And I smile,
A big one,
For I understand,
That the other season is always now.

M.F

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