Those were the days when I could spread my wings and fly
Hovering above each cloud as the Sun seemed right
O those were the days alright when many were shy
Striving to learn or find out why black was not white
Every morning was promising to be peachy
While every night was hoping to see the Moon blue
Enveloped in a sheet with holes appeared preachy
Reflecting about the past after a miscue
Elephants were rarely pink in the other room
Teachers were not afraid of their stupid pupils
Hell could be construed to require a hot costume
Even if in the long run it had no scruples
Doomsday was eclectic before it became sure
Anthi was still forthcoming like a divine dream
Yesterday two trees saved each other with a lure
Shakespeare turned out to be a woman with each seam
All in the Family - Those Were the Days
About the Creator
Patrick M. Ohana
A medical writer who reads and writes fiction and some nonfiction, although the latter may appear at times like the former. Most of my pieces (over 2,200) are or will be available on Shakespeare's Shoes.
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Message Me Afterwards
>That was a bad idea. I thought you knew… >Oh, the pathos! I don’t really know you as well as I should. In fact, I may not know the real you at all. That essential, sparkling you that you only reveal to a select few. Had I been paying more attention to the stories you are so fond of telling, in which you are invariably author, narrator and protagonist, I would not have been so foolish as to set you up on a blind date. After all, no friend has ever done anything of the kind for another. That’s preposterous. What is a friend, really?
By D. J. Reddall7 days ago in Fiction
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