people will leave and go
like how the sun rises and falls each day.
good things never last forever.

older, busier,
year after year,
no time for childish wonder
pulled down with the burden of responsibility.

it will soon trickle down to me.
what time do i have left?

when people i know start their journey,
will i want to stay?
will i be the same?

drenched in a place of nostalgia,
filled with bittersweet longing
and past friendships, rotting in time.

one day i will leave,
like my predecessors before me,
with a briefcase stuffed with memories.
which soon will be lost in the depths of time
within the twisting path
of life.
_