Sands Of The Past

Oh the joy of being young
And the foolishness that burns
The desire and the want to run wild
Screams from within unhinging from the child

Love and hate a part of the mixture
A sweet cake of trust and betrayal
The taste savoring and preparing
For the banquet which is soon coming

When the years pass by and
Time seems a distant friend
In memories of the past
Ones deepest laughter lasts

Prayers of why and where – wrongs
The deepness of destitute
Pleasant fond remembrances
In a sad state is lived

The pleasure of roaming without care
And the happiness of rides at the fair
With friends who joke about pairs
And smell the girl next doors sweet hair

Cricketers and actors all want to be
Living a life of self fulfilled dreams
In its due course life's tragedy
Overpowers those wonderful dreams

Education mostly a synonym of wasted time
A job it will get, which gives enough money to dine
Through the shit and pain and heavy boredom
Waste of what was a happier person

Theaters and cafés Become things of the past
Old teens wonder when did those pass out so fast
Gripping sand is a fool's obsession
Crying over spilled milk a wasted profession