There was a time when i lived in it
When it was no more, i treasured it
as a brilliant jewel of honour
unique and rare
such a souvenir
would be safe in the chest of memory
unless opened through my mouth
to be acknowledged by loved ones
for their admiration, for generations on end
but it decayed, and lost it
so i asked my loved ones
but they did not remember it
then i learned but did not understand why
such a brilliant jewel of honour,
was nothing more than a grey stone in their eyes,
to those who should have treasured it
i hated them for this.
i beat my pillow, and cried with all my chest
till i noticed that i too was at fault,
i myself had forgotten
something so unique and rare
until it was truly nothing but something,
a reminiscent search for cloudy remnants in my head
I came to terms with this fact:
I am just like them.
There was a time when i lived it
but it is no more
yet my feet walked in it
i brushed them with my palms,
and clasped the allusion of dust in my hands
in an attempt to cling onto what was no more
denial hailed down and washed it away
and it was eternally gone, through the webs of my
fingers–
as it had been, since the moment I had forgotten
but the world moves on
the clock continues and change comes
my body grows older by the minute
crows feet form in the corners of my eyes
yet i cannot remember how long i have lived
without counting the years on a calendar;
I cannot comprehend the concept of time.
i thought the memories i clubg to would keep me alive
but even those are fickle,
easily lost and
begrimed
so with this i learned and understood why
one should live in the present
and make more memories, many more
as many as the ones that will, also, soon be lost.