Nostalgia

On a rainy drench day
I thought of lost time
When language was proper
Abuse worst crime
Money was secondary
Ethics were Prime

Rebels were martyrs
Thoughts had a home
Divine cried over a
lost genius’ tome

Verses were heard
Words carried weight
Philosophical pondering
and humanity’s fate

Music grand masters
Songs sung in soul
Days, many hours
Nirvana achievable goal

Was this all real
or mirage, imagination
Life was much simpler?
mind’s insinuation

Return to the mundane
daily death routine
Passing through passages
Million times seen