Nestled in the sands of time,
Amidst the blinding sun and the biting cold,
Covered with dust and grime,
What a beautiful dream it is to behold.
Of summer days of our youth,
Of carefree exchange of music, ideas and thoughts,
When the seeds we had sown then have now borne fruit,
The days we pondered endlessly on connecting the dots.
Is it a dream or a memory,
A distant mirage of happiness which I could see.
Of a confused teen which was me,
Who was hopeful, curious and free.
I am not that teenage girl anymore,
I am maybe more, much more,
Someone who has since passed many a door,
Someone who has since seen many a beautiful shore.
But the images in the desert which I have seen,
Remain as a requiem of a beautiful dream.
