Memories | Poetry

It is inevitable with time,
The aging of your rags,
Make your garment dry
And your vision is no longer so clear.

Your colors are pale,
That the traction is not the same
The one that hoarded in the
past the attention of others.

But life is the shortest cycle
in this constant universe.
Pass and leave a mark,
Without touching anything is the way,
It is the way to leave your colors in this life.

Without questioning,
and without that bitter thought
that others cause you.
Leaving the hardships in the past,
The lack of love and intrigue.

As you go through life,
you leave a lot of memories,
That is just that.
Memories

Silverio Armando Linares Torres