It's gained pace of an electric train,
Started slow moving very swiftly though,
Yesterday's child is today's father,
Tells today, was searching while ago,
Wished to grow but now when he's grown,
Weeps remembering shirtless run in rain,
Days passed have remained a dream,
This today is just a pinching pain,
Wept and cried, jumped and laid,
Forcing father fulfill each desire,
Father too in miseries and despair,
Rushed to corners easing his son's fire,
Lived life of love, had all my toys,
Laugh when remember, I my Sunday's joys…
Jahanzeb
a boy's childhood in a suburban world, lost through age and aging remembered.
I think we would all like to capture a glimpse of our lost youth - good write.
age and time the relentless vectors, tucked under the reapers arm. nostalgia nor naivete shall deter him... a quaint floater into 'those' realms... nice write...liked it
....a white hair in my hair....wonderful & simple way of showing transition phase in life....... a commonly-shared experience is described in the poem... I love recalling carefree days i love recalling joys i still recall my pretty past i still recall my toys... .........thank you.....
read somewhere that ifyou have not grown up by fifty, you dont have to! But seriously, i did like this poem and dont we all wish we could be young and carefree again! I like the way it end with fond memories.
This is an excellent poem. I am not yet old enough to get white hairs but I understand how the conflicts between feeling young and realizing your youth has passed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
oh sir what a remarkable piece i am in awe yes we all like to grow when we are little cause parents don't listen us say we are to small to think of it no one takes us seriously but when we are grown we do miss those silliness and how naive and sweet the memory were it is incredible your poem is incredible, thank you for sharing, love payal