Once upon a time, watermelon seeds

grew in stomachs. Echoes of blissful youth.

Endless amounts of precious time indeed!

Innocent outlooks, blanketed from truth.

Childhood is like a mayfly. That brief 

moment gliding above the cyan skies, 

Lulled by sunlight’s singing and pain relieved.

We are asleep to the time passing by…

When we wake we bear the weight of the world, 

We beg mercy to cold, uncaring Time.

Longing for our fruitful days, regrets swirl.

Why didn’t I treasure the days of my prime?

But will I look back some day and plead 

That I had cherished the present instead?