"A Touch Of Days Gone By"

In the days

of wine and roses,

in days of old

when times were easier.

There was no descent into paranoia,

no blackness, just the light.

Nostalgic memories

of times so sweet to the heart,

the soul cries,

because there are no more.

Now our minds bleed

thinking about what used to be,

white picket fences,

surrounding a house of Americana.

With fierce rage of rain,

so wicked are they.

We ache for the days of free love,

when gold streets shined like a beacon,

when we yearned for a single touch. . .

Timothy Michael DiVito c2o19

anemotionaljourney.com