Now that I stand at life’s threshold,
I often delve into the guilty pleasure,
Of reminiscing the days of old
When countless carefree hours I spent in leisure,
Untouched by the vile or villainy of the world,
Bathed in childhood innocence, I stood so pure.
I often rewind to the days long past
When my mother’s kisses were the balm to all my scars,
All the endless chatter,
And the lively laughter
Still reverberates in my ears
When I think of the days when
Bruised knees were the only known pain.
Even in the midst of the hustle and din,
Countless memories keep flooding in,
Of unclear faces and foraging hands
Plunged into a single lunch box.
The earnest pleading for an hour of games,
The immeasurable joy that a free hour gave,
Are all still fresh in the stock of my memories.
Oft when I return home tired and weary,
I sit back and dwell on these memories,
The simple moments, the days of joy
When all I ever wanted was to be good
And never even hurt a fly.