Molding

alluring and daunting, I'm left all alone, intriguing and frightening how my anxieties grown, cutting all ties to relationships sewn, my mind in a spiral and I'm falling on my own and this is by choice, I choose to recluse, padlocked my feelings so they'll never get loose, hoping for a past, a future, a truce, hoping to loosen the knot of life's noose can I wander and wonder of what I will find? can I take this cruel world and make it more kind? can I take my woes and sorrows and leave them behind? can I polish and glisten the way I once shined? ... Truth be told, i'm getting old, all my youths begun to mold, it's much much worse than I've been told, each year, I feel, I grow more cold, while I sit and ponder of paths unrolled and morals sold, but you can't have this heart of gold.