The time of youth in lost years
was a period just as real
as the ones experienced
by the young of today
repetition of the themes
echoes quietly in the halls
as the past is disbelieved
in the faces of the antiques
loves and losses took a toil
the stumbling steps to joy's realm
are renewed once again
each endeavored with the same
as the period must recur
even though it seems absurd
look to the young to see the old
in due time they'll return.
© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20190226.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem