This day reminds of memories of old,
by Kola Tubosun
Of words and thoughts and works and tugs of war
It brings back sighs of days of heat and cold
And days we stared and wondered what was more.
The pristine wind brings back your specless face
Adorned in hues and shades of innocence
With thunderclap I see that smile of grace
That went with us under the public lens.
But then I stop to look behind and forth
Since now alone we know, and thus obey.
This transient game will one day gain its worth
When he or she steps in and we nod, “yea”
So till time grimly comes to draw the line,
Let me pretend to dream, and think you mine.