Poetry: That Time

That time when we were really free but very stupid.

Poetry by Vladimir Fischer

Photo by yousef alfuhigi

“There was no guiding hand…”

It’s happening right now
but memories appear
one after the other
solid in the eye.

Oh guys, where were you
during my good times,
or more like, where was that
good passion hiding,
when we were lost in unexplored.

There was no guiding hand,
or matter in our brains,
occupied by incense
not sold in boxes
but swapped for knowledge,
we had each other, and the rest is nonsense.

I got out by shutting doors
and walking, always walking;
there is a bus, but I’m still walking,
an electric bike or taxi ride, no sorry – I am walking.

Maybe, a day will come,
when we arrive at the same
destination, stay there for a while,
spend our best times together, guys,
just know that one night, when the clock
bangs four singing Kremlin chimes,
a time will come for me to go,
to walk and follow my long and quiet road.

Poetry by Vladimir Fischer

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