O' you my childhood friend
Why are you knocking on our window panes
After all those years
When
Little cottages are dark and gloomy, and
The village streets are sad and silent -all wretched, like a young widow?
Or
You offering a pilgrimage
To our poor wasted youth?
Or
Lost in the crowd of your weird thoughts- all confused
Crying
Like a lost child- nowhere to go?
So tell me my lost friend
Why are you here?
Farid Gul, London, April 23 , 2011
Musings of the Bard
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