As she takes a stroll,
a stroll down the memory lane,
she walked passed a shabby man.
In his ragged clothes, he looked liked filth.
His gazing eyes, there were questions in it.
His face seemed familiar, she thought;
The questions were for her, she understood.
As she walked further,
a little further down the memory lane.
She saw a burial place, and a tombstone with a name.
She tried to read, read the name.
But when she could, she stood crestfallen.
Today she took a path that was forgotten.
She found answers to all her questions.
Age hazed all her memories,
Six decades it took, six decades for a stroll back in her twenties.
Murky memories are what she is left with ,
A road not taken, a retreated step.
Too many things left behind.
A dream unfulfilled, a wish not granted,
a life she couldn’t live, a love that was lost;
And at 80 she can’t even clearly recall it.