Give me wings to fly,
As I ache to travel back into time.
I crave for those bygone days,
Where every moment was a rhyme.
Every morning laid back,
Afternoons spent under my favorite tree.
My siesta broken by a chirping magpie,
The vast blue sky for me to see.
The grassy plains, the small hillock,
The tiny fishes in the shallow lake.
Happiness measured by the number of skips,
A craftily thrown pebble could take.
As the sky turned orange,
My heart used to be filled with glee.
Neighbors and friends bonded,
Over freshly made tea.
The sun bid goodbye,
And the moon stood stout.
The only competition that existed,
How many constellations could one make out.
When was the last time we gazed at a star,
And watched it falling from the sky.
Does life still remain,
Or has it already gone by..
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