The players of yesteryears
Mistaken for the players of today-
Confused and disoriented are
Memory games, being played
Upon mind's mysterious field.
Blackened is the canvas of life,
Ghostly shadows stare in eyes.
In the alleys of blinding darkness
Was there ever a bright home,
Filled with golden sunshine?
The only truth of my existence-
Is this melancholic moment,
Clamped to my tortured self,
Can discern not from dream to reality
Frozen in cold eternity.
memories of the begone days are sweet, but to experience that sweetness today may not sometimes work. To brood over it is still unwise.When we think about the melencholies that we experienced we feel it is the only truth that is precipitated.in life for the lonely days. Fantastic thought....10
Thank you so much for such a wise comment filled with the experience of life.
Truth of existence is realized. Beauty of playing is felt with respect to social duty. We have responsibility to encourage players and motivate them to become successful. You have rightly said about transformation. Players or yesterday are glory of today and for their transformation they should be well trained and encouraged. Thank you very much for sharing this work! ...10
Players practice a lot to have transformation. Mind's mysterious field is well understood. Memory remains with mind. You have very beautifully presented this poem on isolation topic. Thank you very much for sharing this work.10+
Thank you so much for reading and commenting on my poem. Welcom to PH site. I hope you will enjoy reading as well as posting your lovely poems.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem has a tugging tone of melancholy! With age, as we lose our youthful enthusiasm, we feel helpless and deserted. Sometimes negative thoughts come to take hold of our heart! But we have to learn to drive away all such dark and resentful thoughts and engage in some activity that will divert our mind! A well crafted poem on loneliness and depression!