Just a thought or a wish, an idea incomplete
How should it, make one try
Just as someday, my diary aged
May find a place, in other’s diary pages,
It will glow, slowly
Leaving a smile, a promise, a surprise
Where did it all go and why?
Watching over the nights, it is alright
If the owl howls today,
Running down the steps and over the road
Like a boy reminds no less
Of what is past
Than the music gently played,
Nothing has changed
The city, the home, the people
Still, all that is remembered is hidden
Inside the boxes put away,
The comfort of same tea cup, at the same place
Time, to be together just another day
Who will believe it to be better
Than the thousands of miles travelled
And how should it then, make one cry?
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