Thoughts

A drought wisps through
The thinkers mind
Thoughts come of few
Of rememberants of time

Another year older
None the wiser I feel
My mind tends to smolder
Under thoughts that kept real

No more minds to wander
Aimlessly thinking alike
Those times I was fonder
Of simple things in life

So young thoughts
Should be treasured
As age seams to grow
Imagination gets pressured
And soon disappears