A Sleepy Trip to Memory Lane
Time is a fire that puts out its
sparks until it smokes off
Time is always unfathomable
The mad chanting banters were audible to me
They wore cranky, curious, or cryptic faces
I, however, had a splendid mix of
sentiments charging through me
My return felt like an erratic fever dream
Some had a change of heart or appearance
Like they had gotten off an audition call,
It tasted bittersweet
Call me a nyctophile, in bed is where I dream,
about the everlasting memories
The glowy streetlamps lavish the nightsky
Everyone in the block gathers to sleep,
amidst the stars of the galaxy
I recall a time from another decade,
where I would play in the block, all night and day
Singing along the pretty visitors’
chorus Sprinting across the street,
with my bear-arms open wide,
letting the wind current blow inside me
But now, I’m crying lightning,
we all grew up and it’s all tough luck
I now hold a cup of tea, staring into the abyss,
wondering about my future’s certainty
Now I rest my eyes to a immaculate dream,
fulfilling my desired fantasies