The days have gone,
Those of unfettered glee.
Where glory meant
Staying longest on the jungle gym,
Or going highest on the swing.
The days of stubborn insistence,
Have gone!
Gone are the mindless games.
The joy, no exhaustion could overcome.
Gone is the terror,
Of monsters under the bed.
Gone is that unblinking faith in happy endings.
The cherish of each bedtime story.
Bright, radiant faces.
High tinkling laughter,
Have gone!
Given way to the nastiness of age.
The burden of responsibility.
The weight of life.
Gone is the bliss of a child.
Replaced by the arrogance of the aged.
Gone is the rapture in each toffee,
The delight in every smile.
Gone is the sweetness of the young.
Lost is that charm.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Shweta. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.