Memories

So many years have passed, since then.

But seems as if its been just yesterday.

Though I remember few days vividly,

the rest are scattered and castaway.

Yet in the lonely timeless afternoons,

I ponder over, what’s gone by and past.

Everyone fades away in recap of images,

its me who remains in at last.

I go on to change the bygones,

the memories, possibly if I could.

Ah, they would not change nor move,

as if they are made from wood.

Now as they are, they remain with us,

to share with others and so on.

For what I couldn’t alter somehow,

I’ll just prefer to forget and move on.

I wouldn’t exchange those days,

with the illusions of west.

Or even with the mysteries of east,

because that’s the time, life was best.

Neither can they be traded with,

what are other worldly treasuries.

For reason that, the days are mine,

and they are my fond, lovely memories.