By Amen Dilawar
Why do we grow older every day?
I wish some moments could just stay.
Our hair turns whitish-grey.
It feels like a game that we play.
I hope my heart remains young forever.
No one knows that whatsoever.
I remember my fourteenth birthday.
Why couldn’t it have lasted for more than a day?
It must feel like gold to be old.
That’s a belief that we all tend to hold.
You can’t help getting older,
But you don’t have to get old.
Getting older is better than the other option,
Which is being dead.
How must it feel to be on the death bed?
I always think that in my head.
These are God’s plans.
Good times go by as fast as a fan.
I want them to pause and stay still,
As I reach the top of the hill.
Last times slipped by
So quickly, unnoticed.
Memories happen in the making
Time is a thief, always taking.
To be young is amazing.
Getting older is sad but enlightening phasing.
You can do things freely as a young kid,
But planning to be a child from my heart ‘til forever is what I don’t forbid.
At the end of the day,
Nothing lasts, I must say.
We will all have to go one day.
No way!
