A Sleepy Trip to Memory Lane

Time is a fire that puts out its

sparks until it smokes off

Time is always unfathomable

The mad chanting banters were audible to me

They wore cranky, curious, or cryptic faces
 

I, however, had a splendid mix of

sentiments charging through me

My return felt like an erratic fever dream

Some had a change of heart or appearance

Like they had gotten off an audition call,

It tasted bittersweet

Call me a nyctophile, in bed is where I dream,

about the everlasting memories

The glowy streetlamps lavish the nightsky

Everyone in the block gathers to sleep,

amidst the stars of the galaxy

I recall a time from another decade,

where I would play in the block, all night and day

Singing along the pretty visitors’

chorus Sprinting across the street,

with my bear-arms open wide,

letting the wind current blow inside me

But now, I’m crying lightning,

we all grew up and it’s all tough luck

I now hold a cup of tea, staring into the abyss,

wondering about my future’s certainty

Now I rest my eyes to a immaculate dream,

fulfilling my desired fantasies