At the fag end of life
when no one is around
Just me and my memories
Stay together to see the life
from the windows of present
In the summer nights
and Cold early mornings
and Rainy afternoon
Nothing seems joyous then past.
As we age, we become more isolated and see the past as a fairy tale. All the more reason to fully enjoy each moment of now.
Here past is more joyous than present as the memories indicate the glorious past. At present we are in the end of the life. A beautiful poem nicely executed.10
a marvelous post portraying memory of past....ten star
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I would say glorious past will never return except via memories. I agree with my friend Kelly, as we grow we isolate from the young lot.
Thank you Asim