Youth

I remember I used to go to this place

A dinghy bar, nestled in the hills beyond my college,

You could just see the girls’ hostel from out

the window, and the sun never

burnt your eyes. I remember often getting drunk

there.

I wonder what happened to that bar,

sometimes, I wonder what happened to the young

people who drank there; and stared wistfully at

the windows on the top of the hill. They are still

there somewhere, I guess, but I look out my

window at the sun beating down, and

I let the sorrow crawl down my cheek, one

drop after another.