What will come of the mornings and days
Will Someone remember our purpose and ways
What about the moments we raise
the things we praise......
wat about the moments in pain,
the dreams in brain
Who will know them as us the same
if no, then who to blame
who will see our smilin faces
who will see those blushes
unfolding stories of far away places
how many before us have passed by
which set foot on sand we stand by
they too set their dreams to fly
and now a mist in a cloudy sky
we don´t know,why things are just like now,
but I believe
one day we will understand why and how
how one lost touch with life and dream
and still held on to a hope,wanting to breathe....
what was it that forced one to pen these thoughts..
the same sparks an urge to puzzle out the life's knots...