Aren't we all prisoners? Prisoners of time? How nothing seems to change From one day to another, And yet when you look back after months or a year, It doesn't seem to be the same? Oh, Wait. Don't get me wrong here. The very sights and scenes are familiar, But the people who shared those days and laughter, seemed to have...disappeared? Aren't we all prisoners? Prisoners of our memories? Do you remember? the evening skies, and the twinkling stars, Of pockets of stillness spread afar. Or The cool breeze and the sound of the stream, As you walked along the narrow street. Or Reminiscing the days, and finding solace, When you see a happy face. Or The smile that unknowingly forms, Seeing pictures that your room wall adorns. Aren't we all prisoners? Prisoners of our own thoughts? How at times, We let ourselves be defined, By those who know us the least. Fighting battles that are not meant to be fought, Undoing and unlearning, that needs to be not. ...
We are all storytellers; mine are here :)