OLD DAYS

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Those forgotten incidents, returns back again,

Spreading all over, blurring the eyes.

Where did it come from, those lost shadows of yours?

Those gone-by songs which my love had sang,

Those scattered memories, those shattered dreams.

What matters if that is of others?

Once it used to be mine as well.

Eyes got shy striking with her, unknowingly.

Those countless pleasant hopes, plentiful of wishes,

Eyes played unusual game with own.

Hair danced with the cool air,

My sight became restless to see her.

The door of heart was opened,

Unannounced love also entered in.

Spreading youth, ecstasy ran through this world.

The moments were colorful,

Everywhere it was spring & green.

But now its all just went down in vein.

My heart says those were just an ooze of memories,

Just a gush of old days.

What matters if she took away all my happiness?

But this heart wasn’t smashed into pieces at all.

Where was my life & where am I now?

Those forgotten incidents, returns back again,

Spreading all over, blurring the eyes….

About zoffice

I have come to this frightening conclusion that i'm the decisive element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration; I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal in all situations, It is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated, & a person is humanized or de-humanized. If we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming..

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