Parabola

My younger days I dream of Paragliding.
And I had a strong desire to be a Pilot.
But this paralysis decaying body in my old age,
I have to quit my old dreams.
I repent now as the youth is a gift
That passed through my bony fingers secretly.

* I dedicate this poem to my friend Sandra. Fowler, I am being grateful to your wise comments really pushed me to the six hundredth poem.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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