Old me, I've been looking for you
for your naive thoughts, clean feelings, pure heart,
trustful words, sweet eyes,
and even for your immature comments.
Sometimes, hopes talk about you
and smiles remember your good friendship,
the one you used to be.
Old me, when did you get lost?
Where did you go?
I've lost count of the times I've seen you
You just disappear as vapor or fog.
Why did you decide to put your arms down
Who should I blame?
I know you are afraid to comeback,
Strength and trust you lack.
Old me, I'm calling your name,
awake from your sleep.
Copyright © Ruth Miranda | Year Posted 2010