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I sometimes with the past would live again,
Like turning pages slowly in a book.
To feel the laughs I shared with all my friends
And see the joy inside each simple look.
Some days were small but still meant everything,
A moment bright that quickly slipped away.
I wish that time had gentle, hidden wings
So I could fly back to a better day.
But time moves on like rivers to the sea,
It never stops no matter what we do.
The past remains a quiet memory
That softly stays like morning drops of dew.
So though I wish those days would come once more,
Their light still warms the path I walk before.
