nearing eve the semi red sun.
Was just on homeward way,
and kids in park having fun.
Shy whispers and drooping arms,
was all that I could then see.
Stolen glances and lovely charms,
is what teenage seems to be.
Of the drooping arms I told,
have wrinkled faces as of now.
They are now, not so bold,
one day in dusk they would bow.
This is how the time goes,
as if from dawn to dusk.
Smell fading like wilting rose,
and a man changes in the mask!
Prasenjit©2012
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