We grow up too soon to treasure special thoughts and impossible dreams....
Entangled in a web of activities we become reclusive, although, the apparent gaiety seems natural.
Remorse is ephemeral, excess fury remains bottled up inside, only untimely tears form a veil camouflaging the void.Sometimes its too late while delirium is ever present. Life cannot always assuage the throbbing pain... Genuine pain emanates from no where but resides for a long while.
O how I long for those innocent, fun filled summer times. Why has happiness become a rarity?
And we humans are so selfish.... We look back and spare a thought only when its inescapable!
