The Old Times - Poem by ThanhThanh Poet
There had been once I wrote rhymes,
Painted pictures, sang songs, & danced oftentimes.
I thought that life was as beautiful as dreams,
Imagination so whole like aspired beams.
The fruit being not ripe in its rawness unfit,
I blamed myself for being naïve to hurriedly bite it.
Even certain species though ripe but still sour,
I held it against life for creating so many sorts dour.
In pondering on the ups and downs,
My heart grew callous, liquidating poetic grounds.
Reality was a human world, dusty space,
Soul cold, all visions succumbed bad, base.
Now that I try to search back for my green grace,
How strange! Is it myself or another's face?
Oh, I did have in the past a fine maiden existence;
However, it has stridden over such a long distance.
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