Like paint washed up by the rain,
So are the times we once shared,
Left with memories of what once was.

Lost in the sounds of my own echo,
Are the times where we once cherished,
Fading away like it never existed.

Walking in the trails of memories.
In fast-moving motions,
I am constantly haunted by flashbacks of our times together.

Days we once considered carefree,
Are days I now care to re-live,
Before memories carelessly fades to be replaced.

Like treasured artefacts,
I watch it all come and go,
Forever burdened with the destiny of remaining.

© Idiopoet