Generations

Generations By Fatmir Terziu We were boys, you were girls, fed by the morale of the time you fled from us as if we were beings from separate worlds. You were girls, we were boys we sat on the same school desks, youth, that today you can hardly find, by pencil we noted the sitting plan. We are no longer those of yesteryear others have been born of us and they are boys and girls and today their words weigh differently. Life itself has revolutionised you can’t easily distinguish boys and girls, they say it’s the ‘new generation’ and words for them are like fairytales. We were just who we were at that time children born and knotted with patches, we prayed for this spring to arrive, but it seems to have descended from the moon. The cold season is approaching, Starlings bicker over the fence consciously seeking a hideout, do they actually think? We see them with the eyes of yesteryear Unintentionally we sin during every season, we forget how valuable for us even one advice was. And whilst the starlings sharpen their wings the London sky dawns and greys my mind wanders to you, girls who wore the same shirt in all seasons.