Old times, how have you been?
I miss you now, and all that you’ve seen.
I know things will never be the same,
I yearn to go back from whence we came.

Many times I turn my gaze to the now,
To all the things that make me feel proud.
None of this is a gift from father to son,
But the only one who asked, has now faded into oblivion.

Legacy is not to be measured in past, present or future tense,
Are lessons I learnt while she was still sitting on the fence.
I thought we were friends, but she only shifted the order of things,
And somewhere in between I forgot my dying kin, and how it all came to this.

Sometimes it is easy to get sold,
To sad stories that are being told, but add to nothing,
To hidden possibilities of replacing old memories with new ones,
And giving up some.
I know in distant lands childhood friends celebrate life in careless laughter,
While I can never claim to have known her, or my father.

I was sitting with her by the stream
Along came drifting a paper boat
Suddenly she remembered him from last night’s dream
And promises in a letter that he wrote

She bid goodbye and crossed the bridge in haste
I didn’t understand why she so suddenly departed
In rage, I wanted to set fire to this place
But the river changed its course and things were sorted

These days I sometimes walk by the stream to reflect on her pride and my prejudice
I think about how she said things would be simple, but yet that wasn’t it
I wonder if it would have been different if even I had made a promise
For I miss the loving and caring; it is but an addictive habit