Yester.

I think about the days of before,
I think about the people whom I adored,
The past is seamlessly connected to people,
That once left, their marks on our yesterdays.

A memory,
speaks of pain,
Pops up when you’re in disdain.

Memories,
That sometimes don’t let you sleep.
memories,
That sometimes make you weep

Keep them closer to you,
For There will come a time,
When Memories of those people,
Afar ,
are all you’ll have.
-Anirudh Shankaran.

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