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ehanson

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

2 poems·Since January 2017
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Long for the Past

January 12, 2017

 

 

 

When they say

Those were the days

When they tell

Of the good old times

When

Back in my day

We walked uphill, both ways

 

I wonder how things were different.

More paper

More pencils

More walking.

 

More style

More lipstick

More chivalry.

 

More creativity

More practicality

More competence.

 

But what will my children wonder

When I tell them

How we walked uphill, both ways

How we used paper books

How their education is less rigorous

 

More books

More school

More friends.

 

More gasoline

More rubber

More plastic.

 

More global warming

More tumblr

More popularity.

 

We must have been so bored, right?

 

I will shake my head and smile

Understanding.

Nothing is the same

But somehow, everything is:

 

Different people

Different styles

Different problems.

 

Different enemies

Different allies

Different wars.

 

I will be old one day.

So will you.

Memories fade, things change.

Forget the music, forget the movies

 

Remember me, please.

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