As I was sauntering down the alley,
I saw a railway track, rusty brown,
Now drowned in an air of desolation,
Just like the nearby despondent town.
A stare, a look, a dreamatic vision,
And the track was shining new,
Perhaps, I’d fell asleep and was,
In a fantastic dream, made of hue.
As I saw the colors blend together,
Creating a euphoric, utopian scene,
From a side, there slowly emerged,
A young kid, barely thirteen.
A subtle, faint, subdued smile,
And a cheerful, ecstatic face,
In school dress, I saw him walk,
On the railway track in slow pace.
Dirty, torn around hair, he had,
Yet how happy he was, I thought,
Not a sign of worry, or pain,
No anxiety, no angst he’d bought.
Now, having reached the horizon,
He once turned and waved goodbye,
Then, faded like fog on a sill,
Leaving me alone in anguish to cry.
“Where have you gone to?”
I cried, cursing my destiny,
For that kid, was none other than,
A happier and younger me.