Those lost tales, those old streets
those wheezing breezes that fondled my hairs
those doe eyes with intent & intense stares
those free gails, those muffled meets
there from the warmest days to the coldest nights
of the memories that overstay with comfort sights
sunggles & struggles, story & history
the tears that fall from my eyes, the fears that we face
the smiles that shine in my eyes, the challenges that we ace
for happy moments that I lived with my
friends
for sad lows that hurt harder to no ends
Ohh! I miss those arms,
Ohh! I miss those swarms
It is a wonderful life where the loved ones always leave
blast of happiness or drenched in dooming grieves

-Sarthak mishra 🍁