by Gloria Sarasin
My eyes now view a different scene,
so much in life has changed,
and yet, I feel I'm just the same,
just differently arranged.
The world goes by much faster now,
each one in such a hurry,
too late, I think, to keep up its' pace,
even if I should scurry.
New friends I see but gone the old,
to other scenes unknown,
but I know, if they returned,
from me they have outgrown.
Where doors once stood without a lock,
they're now firmly secure,
for I see the heart of man,
growing colder with each year.
I search to find yesterdays' world,
the one I use to see,
but think it too is gone
right along with me.
Can't roll back the years, I fear,
just yellow pages in a book,
and so I try to live today
with a new outlook.
Yesterdays will not return;
were they really what they seem?
Today will be tomorrow's good old days,
but, will that, their ills redeem?
My old self has gone from me,
but a wiser self now sees,
that the part of me that's gone,
is only the outer side of me.
Tags: POEM
