Friday

Memories (Poem)

The past present itself as visions and images found in long corridors of time. The human mind perceives the past and tries to make a meaning out of it.

Memories may be good or bad, but to make most of the past, one has to probably look at the mistakes committed, and to keep oneself cheerful, often look at the happy days, taking screenshots of the better glimpses that the past presents.





Memories
Was walking down memory lane,
Was walking on the beach,
Throttling the feelings of pain,
Keeping doubts out of reach.

Had a look at the sands of time
The hours when time itself stood still,
Could hear distant bells chime,
And I was walking while I still stood still.

Felt the heat of the sun beating,
Could sense an awe that the past left,
Saw the sheath of life fleeting,
Glimpses of what was there were best.

This poem originally published from 100 Poems

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