Yellowing pages, brittle and coarse
childish imprudence, adolescent flamboyance
frozen in time by words unspoken,
teary wrinkles and smilies hold.
Nightmarish horrors and sullen realities
torrential emotions and arduous dreams
fragrant memories and ecstatic poems
all come back to life in these pages I hold.
The could have beens and the if onlys
the what ifs and why nots
the questions unasked and answers untold
the dedicated songs and confessions unrolled.
These pages... my world, my solace
the crumbling frontiers of my optimism
dawn of reality and cynicism.
Stuck in a moment, unable to move.
After all the rough stone on the river bank,
with the drift smoothening its vain edges,
having nothing to hold its ground,
catches the flow and crumbles away.