I remember yesteryears-
those were good good old times-
when I did eat from mama’s hands
and lived and fought the siblings fight

I remember yesteryears-
I used to cry, cry yes a times,
of being ignored or being left out
and being noticed or singled out.

I remember yesteryears-
when dodo and rice I took to class
I divided partners’ desks,
and never sat where girls just left.

When I remember good old times,
I recall them wisdom chimes-
that yesterday though laid with pines
is a shadow of future climes.





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