The Ink Flows.... Poem by Mahfooz Ali

In this present emotional ice age
when sharing of feelings is a crime,
I remember my childhood days
when sharing of love was prime.
Those days when tears rolled with laughter and love
and security bound me in endless ties,
those moments when I moved like an innocent dove
played pranks, shared joys and dreamt of paradise.
We know of love that was pure and selfless
we lived a life, filled with small joys and happiness,
we cared for tender emotions, we cared for each other,
we felt for all and belonged to one another.
Such were our possessions that we were proud of,
such was the wisdom of feelings we boasted of.

Today, as I capture the flavour of past events
and recollect those bottled joyous moments,
I feel richer with such a childhood, than having endless riches.
Even today in this emotional ice age,
things are not really as bad as we gauge.