Perchance for times of darkness,
God gave us memory lane;
Where life is as it should be,
And shall on heavenly plane.
Yesterday, it lives forever,
Our days of youth are stored;
Within the mind a treasure box,
And the only key is yours.
The old house is still 'a standing,
Loving parents by the gate;
Smoke billows from the chimney,
Kettle whistling on the grate.
Outside the sound of children,
Hop Scotch and bat on ball;
The children you used to play with,
Have aged, no, not at all.
There's comfort in the attic,
But it's not a place to dwell;
The echoing of your own thoughts,
In excess, a living hell.
Most people are not quite happy,
But disguise the fact somehow;
This life was meant for living,
Our time, forever now.
In truth, these are the best of times,
Yes, flawed in many ways;
But too soon, your younger loved ones,
Will call them 'golden days'.
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Thank you for reading Happy days
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this life is meant for living we have to be happy in it. Happiness is our birthright. thank u dear Poet for these thoughts. liked it very much.