Our childhood is one of the things that we sometime dream of going back. The following poem tells that time spent, however, can never be redone...










Those young years that can never come back
Filled, like sandwiches, with pickles, pepper and tart---
My young playfulness, zest, and mishaps.

Some mem'ries stayed, more mem'ries slacked;


Those frolicking and giggling I can't turn back.
Why, tell me, can't I mimic my then innocent laugh?

Time had devoured those days --- all spent, lagged, gone.

Those emotions felt, those pure bliss, all withered --- their mem'ries hummed;
Nay, age, wealth, wisdom --- can do nothing but dream and sigh.




Photograph by BuddhaWarrior. Please CLICK HERE to visit the owner's Flickr site. Thank you!