Something Omitting Poem by Rex Islam

Narrating a story that would surmise of such a time
Which would cross not presently a decade deadline,
While then the hour, reality was bestowed to nature pure
There was no discovery to any extent of mechanistic cure.

It was a little break no more than of just seven years
But to elaborate the changes would bleed my tears;
While my childhood spent in an entirely different phase
That proved to be backdated remains in the present case.

Building and people once were like speck so rare and scarce
Now horded streets, no empty space to build another house;
It was a city only resembled the old, woodland ghost towns
Now draped with multitudes, luxuries as its magnificent gowns.

After my arrival from the period of the stated minute gap
It ached my heart with bitter gnaw to utter for what just had hap,
In my mind and with the former land or with its history divine
The sardonic, geometrical changes; but still admit that all are fine.

Once while walking or cycling through the dales of plain
On its both sides were bushes, high forests, or fields of grain.
We trod and bike like spurt with enough empty space
Now a faster walk could hit the swarm of diverse multi-race.

We use to know people no matter whether it’s of ten miles afar
Now don’t even know nor care for the neighbors beside or near.
We sat surround with bush, on fifty wards field, or on mounds of hills
Now our sitting place surrounds with walls of bricks or it’s fenced with grills.

I could see the instant after another lap of the same sum of time
Where on the ground of the backed soil and bar would I myself find;
Then plodding, playing, enjoying above fifty feet from the ground
Where the shades of trees or chirp of birds would never be found.

Not are strangers only the neighbors but also the family members of mine
Who were the only truths that exist to put our being under care refine,
Then no savageness would be reveled nor will there passion seems to be,
Neither the care for romantic age nor any soul to be wild and free.