There is a picture hanging on the wall of past, 

With flower blossom and a kid rolling on the grass. 

The trophies kept safe in cabinets to recall achievements on chart,

Drawing books, diaries, letters were thrown in scrap dealer's cart. 

I can't remind myself the last time my parents walked holding me in their hands,

The last day when my father tossed me in the air and caught me, withstand.

The night I told my mother to buy map at 10 o'clock.

The last dusk I was standing with my classmates on school ground.

The day I fought my brother for a pencil box.

Days were long But years, too short. 

I lived through fear and excitement that passed. 

I was free when I didn't had freedom,

Now I am just a PRISONER OF PAST .