With hands held and love shared,
Many places traveled far and wide....
Memories made with kisses and walks,
It seemed the time was with their stride.....
Does time care about one’s pace?
The question always haunted me in the past
Did it care about the memories made?
I guess, it did not.
Good times make good memories
Giving one so much to fall back on....
The same good memories become stingers of pain
As soon as the dark clouds loom large with the Sun now gone....
Happy memories are now stingers
Leaving no place to hide
The good times are dead ringers
That challenge you now to surf past the tide!