I turn the pages of the album with pictures in matt and gloss <br />some stare at me in awe, while some look at me <br />like the long fallen leaves gawping at the tree <br />which now stands a foot tall <br />made of memories, both desired and denied, we all are <br /> <br />So here I am, on a warm winter evening, writing a song <br />a song for all my yesterdays... <br /> <br />Childhood is a dream, we all see when we grow-up <br />to be a child in which we don't believe <br />for the moments of innocence are many <br />and will haunt us for whenever we will let our hearts be free <br />like the kites and dragon-flies we left behind, <br />but for the habit of chasing what we don't need <br /> <br />So here I am, on a warm winter evening, writing a song <br />a song for all my yesterdays... <br /> <br />Like many things, love too came in life uncalled for <br />knowing her was knowing me, thought I, <br />unaware of the world that passed by <br />but life has its own humor, of which we try to make sense of <br />for I believed love had ways to figure out its own course, <br />until she taught me to let go <br /> <br />So here I am, on a warm winter evening, writing a song <br />a song for all my yesterdays... <br /> <br />Looking back is a silly thing to do, they say <br />perhaps they are right... perhaps they are just afraid <br />but traveled in my mind for long I have, <br />and I will, picking up astray memories <br />to heal my soul on one warm winter evening <br />when everything else betrays, people in their own chaos move away <br />and forgotten dreams on a cold platter of time'll lay <br /> <br />I will have a song... <br />a song for all my yesterdays...<br /><br />Rince Wind<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-song-for-all-my-yesterdays/
