The Dame and the Lame in Me

Going way back to the Golden Ages

And then through my present

Struck at those moments of joy...

Uff! Plagiarized by the new time...

Those time when I used to curse...

At the Golden Age, where I wandered...

And the blue moon I have cast myself upon...

Doing every moment till to this day...

And then when I carry it upon...

Burdens of heavy loads...

Plummeted every where...

And touch of that something...

Like a begging hand...

I crave for it...

So many botheration...

The thought of childhood days...

When I prayed everyday...

Pathetic about the busy bee in me...

Wherein leisure in itself is a work now...

Pledged my life for too much of responsibilities...

And then the mirror says...

You are just too old at a young age...

Then bypass at random...

To new thoughts and cravings!