Human Poem by Montaha Gasir

It hurts when you realise how different you are,
And how you've changed as the leaves have fallen.
The innocent child you once were, so far.
A scarred mortal in its place, with its cards all in.

You'd rather stick to the good old memories,
than make new ones that ruin it all.
The ones that last through the centuries,
As the generations of the generations recall.

You find yourself wanting to be remembered,
In this dreadful world with its ever-changing times.
Your self portrait in memory eternally suspended,
Accompanied by heavenly notes and chimes.

You see, that's want it means to be human.
You want the memories, the fame and the joy.
But the reality is, our fates have been written,
Not by our hand, by the one with the master ploy