Dusk paints the hillside in a subtle orange glow, the colour so warm
it reminds me of a summer long ago..
It was only yesterday that we were playing with each other,
now we listen to the kids laughing in the park.
Dusk paints the hillside in a subtle orange glow,
It reminds me of the last exam on a Thursday or Friday so,
We were growing up with each line we wrote with our pens,
Filling the blank answer sheets,
Listening to the kids free and wild screaming outside
brought back memories of innocent childhood life.
The sound of glee was from somewhere nearby,
Yet I still couldn't trace its source.
Maybe it was my younger self blessing me with her glow.
It faded away as I stapled my sheets,
The fate was then forever sealed,
and now the sky is turning blue.
So what? Golden wheat ripened in the fields stands tall...
A blazing summer awaits me, youth is still to be lived.
So what if childhood is forever over,
We were in that cramped exam hall, writing our names on our sheets,
Painting our futures with ink bruises on our skin.
Dusk covers the sky in a beautiful tangerine,
Reminding me of eating oranges
Grandma peeled for me
while the afternoon silence went on and on
like life often does...
Nights will linger in Nostalgia,
perhaps I will fall in love with a stranger...
Of course I will,
it's my first summer of freedom.
The sun is setting on a glorious day,
somewhere it's the beginning,
somewhere it's an ending.
In my story, it's an ending with the beginning.

The freckles covered her face
Her smile drew lines darker than mine
She sat beside me , giggling and talking about a time
When she was still blooming just as I am right now
When she wanted to climb and dive
And when she played and laughed with people that now aren't but a distant memory
Some of them died some are too busy thinking about what food they should make for tonight
She described youth like a dime that will loose its value and disappear once time fly.
She then looked at me and said, that I'm not blooming the right way
That my petals are opening up too quick,  
And that I'm too focused making them pretty and pink
She fears they'll fall before spring
because to her beauty is strength, and it's root is time
Now I'm confused and afraid
Afraid that time will win the race
That I wouldn't have stories to tell
That I'll lose what I have now all because of fear and doubt
And the absurdity of the youth's mind