Life has left me behind,
In a place I would much rather be,
In that youth that was mentally free,
Where poetry was written on paper, in pen,
Where ladies were gentle & gentle were
men.
Life has left me behind,
Where calls were made on phone, of curly black
wire,
Slow cooking done with soft hand, upon open
wood fire,
Where all hats were doffed, upon the
opening of doors,
And seats for the aged, ceded, without
thought or pause.
Life has left me behind,
Where words of oath & honour were
promised & kept,
Where, upon reading poetry, grown men
openly wept,
Where women honoured their virtues with no
guilt or shame,
Without hanging in mayhem, or ever taking the
blame.
Life has left me behind,
Where the “please”, “sorry” & “thank-you”
used to reside,
To where romance left nobody, upon the edge
of outside,
Where technology & gadgets, were mere rumours
to come,
To a place where there was always time, to sit
out in the sun.
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