It doesn’t matter how many years I have passed breathing oxygen 

What matters is my urge to play with the wind
as I oscillate through the swing 

And the force with which I exhale out my laughter

when those voices tickles my senses

And I feel as if I am still roaming around
In the streets of my childhood 

Somewhere looking for those pebbles
That were actual treasures of my life

As they encapsulated happiness within them

And through them some real buds of friendship blossomed somewhere

In the forgotten pages of my life

Investments of some decades of life
Somehow made me old enough to realize 

It doesn’t matter how much “property” I own 
Unless it delivers me those laughters

And a peaceful sleep at night