“Remember Me?”--- is all what I ask
But If remembrance is a hard task
Then, bid farewell-
To make me feel
In the midst of my future and past, there lies a fence;
Of the golden days of my adolence.
Days of my transitory youth in rural meadows
Are lost in the clusters of husky shadows.
Enjoyed my life in the epitome of entertainment.
Wanted to stay long in the bowl of refinement.
But, now; in a dilapidated urban cage
Whenever I cast a longing lingering look
To the past page
I discover myself in the reality
Of the grim truth of mutability
So, age, you old gipsy man to make stay
Remove your caravan just foe one day.