Hidden within the walls of crowded halls
There lies a memory and many more.
Through time the crowd gathers for its last
And, clinging to memoirs of the past,
Disperses slowly like the aftermath of rain.
On a pathway to independence,
Decadence of mind and soul,
Some will choose,
And some may lose...
Good memories would not be sold.
And if the ones that we hold close
Can find the time to stay,
I hope we will remember most
The love of yesterday.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem