• What I see : I see three little boys playing in a pool of water.
• what I feel : I can feel their innocence.
TITLE : Nostalgia
My innocence was a stream of naivety,
my worries were as a spec of dust,
my expectations higher than the clouds,
and my dreams surreal and unending.
I could cough up eons of questions,
My mind was a whirlwind,
Winding up gazillion thoughts per time.
I would outrun the sun by day,
and lay heplessly under moonlight,
and on the morrow, I go again.
Seemless, how I saw life,
possibilities were child's play,
I believed in a bed of roses,
I believed in heros and capes.
Old people where old;
they didn't know better,
this was a new era,
I shouldn't be told what to do,
And what not.
I'd argue, I know what I'm doing,
I was a rebel, hot headed.
The hands of the clock have since,
gone round and round and round,
and the number of Winters come and gone,
outgun the figures my fingers,
and toes can muster.
It's as waking up from slumber;
You know it was all a dream,
but you don't want to believe it.