Sitting in a corner.

To lose myself to the world,

As change is the basis of this sphere;

Do I need to follow the lines,

And wear a mask,

Of the person who I never was?

Is it justice done to the rightest esteem,

I wonder and concord;

To this newer world that develops,

Each morning, every passing day.

I thought, I could hold;

On to the person I had been,

But time is such a person;

Affects me, and brings out the different me.

Now, it's on me, to feel if the change has been,

In the right direction or not,

And go on swinging in my dreamland,

To pay it homage for it's lost vigour and interest.

I wish to mourn that person I had been,

I loved him more than anything.

When he was alone, when he was a failure,

He was so perfect in his eyes,

Set aside what the world called in it's cacophony of vices,

It little affected him or afflicted him,

Just because he was shy, soft and innocent to the core.

He goes away in the bushes,

As an answer to the changing world.

I shall miss you my old self,

You were simply gracious and lovable.