To make maths out of sporadic feels

Egg face with tintin hair
And everybody laughed
The cute kid

If fate permits
The kid shall grow
Once,old, no longer cute
Shall the egg face be

What shall be the value, then,
Of those old laughters?

What shall be the value of
Momentary happiness that has passed

Its reason its effect , reverberation –
Maybe just turning to a fading halo
To measure the lost jasmine glitters of
The TimeLife’s unending waves.

To make maths out of sporadic feels.

4 thoughts on “To make maths out of sporadic feels

  1. great title and a wonderful opening; I don’t quite understand the last line but I appreciate the gist of the poem: that time passes and takes with it our joys but they were still splendid in their prime 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

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