By Tom Abdulali (my pen-name)
It is odd and sad that we leave behind
The scenes and stories that were so fine,
That meant all and enriched our soul,
That bring back memories of rock-n-roll,
When we were young and careless at times,
When we didn’t indulge in proverbs and rhymes,
When life was simple like a game of darts,
And now putting together the broken parts
Of a long story of the past that’s gone,
And in all we do very little seems fun.
It is odd, but I reconcile with my past,
What is precious in life always vanishes fast.
It is strange
© Copyright: Рустам Абдул-Алиев, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113072800560
Свидетельство о публикации №113072800560
Рецензии