Lost and Found

 What hope you once had, 

What hope you soon lost.

All those good times, 

Freezes into still frost.

Fades into mere memory,

Buried deep inside,

And away in a flurry, you might think, 

It flees to the world outside.

What memories you cherished, 

Will tend to fade away.

You might later not remember, 

The joys of the early days.

Not even a trigger, 

No oversight. 

Because what is lost is not found, 

Not even with sheer strife.

Fragile memories from old childhood, 

Splintered into pieces as you sow a reformed life,

But hold on to them, will you, 

Don't let your new self be your old life's knife.

You might, however, lose old laughter, 

Your joy, your cheer, and all sweet banters.

But one day in your reinvented dawn, 

You will reminisce about the past, and the past's future.

And, oh, will you ponder and wonder, 

Where has it gone, the good old laughter?

Then you'll see light, regretting the major changes, 

Of your young, boisterous self, to the quiet, wise thinker.

Photographs can tear, can fade away, 

But not your memories, be it strong or weak,

Once a memory is printed, it will linger forever,

 Only in hibernation, waiting for you to remember.

Not all lost things are found, 

Not all existing things are lost.

Never are rusted grudges re-discovered, 

And never do the old echoes of laughter turn to unbeatable frost.