Is it here already, the middle?
You can't know unless you know the end.
Is a new day round the bend?
You must know the number, to answer the riddle.
Middle age is any age, any time.
It differs so from clime to clime.
There are places, all spic and shine
Where middle age's always down the line.
Middle age is any age, any time.
It differs so from clime to clime.
Where all is bare and full of grime
Middle age comes in hardly any time.
Those who keep count are those who know
That they will have the time to grow.
And as they count the days and years,
They wail and cry their bitter tears,
Refusing all signs of happy times
That on their foreheads appear as lines.
Learn more about this author, Sawsan Elzayyat.
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Is it here already, the middle?
You can't know unless you know the end.
Is a new day round the bend?
You must know the number,
by Tiffany Ruiz
Stuck in the middle,
of whats right and whats wrong.
Stuck on a man,
that doesn't know whats going on.
Dead in the middle,
of
Always in the middle,
Afraid to break away,
Safety in the numbers,
Not such an easy prey.
Haven't an opinion,
Or keep it
In the Middle
I look at life, I can't decide
Whoever's right or wrong
Who is preaching to the choir?
Who taught us all a song?
Each
Once again I find myself here
In the middle
Neither in the group
Or out
Somewhere between liked
And tolerated
Walking the line
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Poetry: In the middle
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