He sits under the tree, in the shade all alone
Tree birds chirp no more, for they've all gone.
His friends are in the office, busy in their jobs
Or at those places, where life always throbs.
He can't have a good time, nor join their fun
His mind full of worries, which he cannot shun.
He goes over to his past to relive it again
The more he kindles the memory, more he feels the pain.
Pining for memories, clutching onto the bygone