Life

This life is growing,
as it should,
the seeds of time are sewing,
before I knew they could.

Those traits I possess,
are just their labels,
all they do is provide stress,
turning it into false fables.

Ends are far yet,
still ways to be better,
trying not to make them upset,
trying to be a perfect letter.

Things I try to earn,
things I wish I had,
don't come for free so I had to learn,
how to listen to dad.

Ensuring a career,
that's what is vital,
what I speak is not what they hear,
giving me the wrong title.

The past stays as is,
the future in the molding,
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Words that now feel like scolding.

The days that wither,
those whom we forget,
Darken those memories that thither,
for this life is just another regret.