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Gone Are The Days by Jeomen

Gone Are The Days

Gone are the days
We laugh and die laughing.
We grin
And sin
On pocket picking.

Gone are the days
We pluck the unripe fruits
Because of hunger
Which will not satisfy
And be not enough.

Gone are the days
We speak to talking pot
We had hand shake
And look around for any eye peeping,
We don't mind the hotness of the hand of pot.

Truly, gone are the days
Our legs goes about counting new houses
Hunting till sun goes to bed
And coming back home to yawn
With body full of millions of dirt.

Gone are these days now
We now plough
Any hope for bountiful harvest.

We now grow,
Yet panic of growing old
Childhood plays haunting.

© Udekwe Chikadibia Johnmary
Penname: Jeomen
All Rights Reserved
Good evening beloved!
®24/4/2017

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