Yesterday’s sweet song

Brings joy even after hours long

The wrongful present

It changeth pleasnt.

Cherished memories

Of faces and words

And irretrievable moments

Like resources precious

Are to be treasured

To rejuvenate spirits withered

The force vital on the wane

The joy of the days bygone.

The past with all its pastness,

Is like fuel in the reserve.

For never it fails to preserve

A fresh angle to existence.