GOLDEN DAYS

We lived happily beneath thatched roofs Feasting merrily on simple fare Dressed in familiar, humble garb At peace in our unrefined ways. Oh, how I miss those old days When we walked miles just for fun Telling tales of old, one by one— How beautiful they were, those old days. Our leaders were sources of inspiration Not objects of disdain and abomination Praised for their kindness and bravery Not glorified for their folly and thievery. Those old days When the wind whispered to those who listened And the sun brightened the vision of the blind— Those were the golden times: the good old days.