Philophobia

Oh how people change along with time… How cold they become; How cold indeed!… How they forget so soon, all the things so warm and so good… The memories stay but in one place: My heart.

My heart which aches at times for it can’t bear the sorrow caused by just time. The people are not cruel and neither do they have cruel intentions but they do inflict pain whether they know it or not. The pain which grows deep inside, Into the darkest places of my heart it gathers more and more of lies.

The bright shiny faces lose their glow as swiftly as they once shown. They shown so brightly yesterday when all the colors were yet gay.

Now it seems so black and white; no grey spot, no such light! I miss the sounds I miss the crowd. I miss them all so clear and loud.

The laughters were so real, divine! not some phony faded smile. I long I yearn I want those times I miss them as a blind his eyes! Where art thou my love, come by. come with me and we’d fly high. You out there and me in here. So far away and yet so near.

These days will pass just like the ones that already have and one day we’ll be longing for these now at hand. We’ll miss these moments so nice and precious we’ll blame all those who didn’t tell us.

Blacks’ll go white and softs’ll go rough. Straights will get curves and taste will have been gone. Today will be called yesterday, today so warm and alive. fours will be threes and twos and regrets will be five. “it’s too late” will echo wherever we are. The smells will be odors oh-so-grotesque. there will be cold stone where once was warm embrace. The cozy hug will be missed so much, for there is no one left to give you a hug.

It seems so dark in prospect and is too. don’t ignore it for you’re not a fool.

Just let’s love and hug and smile and enjoy for there is no limit for bliss and for joy. I’m worried not for what could happen but more importantly concerned for what could’ve and didn’t!

Let’s not keep it all in and wait and wait for the so called perfect moment which might or mightn’t! I am here, this is me. It’s my words you read and see. I’m alive and I love life with a bit of fight a little strife.

Even if you can’t do so, at least don’t stop and don’t get cold, cause very soon you will get old. and that’s when getting warm takes two. a two of us; of me and you.

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