Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2019
I ask myself, exactly how
Did I not see as I do now?
What things went on in yesteryear
To blind what I can now see clear

Perhaps it is with every age
Our lens grows sharp with each new page
Time, it makes us wise and true
And strips naïveté from you

The young, the old, we’re all the same
Just wand’ring souls in life’s bored game
We drift and dwell and dream and drink
And hardly ever stop to think

It is the way we’ve always been
‘Twas even said when we’d begin
It will not ever change, I fear
I long for what’s lost: yesteryear
Matt Shao
Written by
Matt Shao  32/M
(32/M)   
  477
   Bogdan Dragos
Please log in to view and add comments on poems