He was just five, his tiny hands raised, Pointing at stars that made him amazed. To him they were lanterns, that sparkled bright Hung up in the heaven, lighting the night. By the window, he would gently stay, Twinkling his eyes up to the sky. Bedtime stories were short and sweet, As dreams of stars, call him to meet. The little drum he used to play, Has hidden under the cozy bed. Cheers and laughter that made the day, Are no longer there anymore. They've now turned into memories past, Making the window a lonely canvas. And now it’s tinted with the dust, Missing the touch of his little fingers. His smile could light up a drowsy day, Chasing all my worries away. But now he’s gone, and forever, As a silent soul I’ll see no more.
By Rtr. Vinuji Ranasinghe.
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