At fifty, life’s a book half-read,
Pages turned with love and dread.
Memories thick, the ink still wet,
On paths I’ve walked, some with regret.
The faces once so near and dear,
Now echoes in a distant sphere.
We shared our days, our nights, our dreams,
Yet life is more than what it seems.
I grasp the past with weathered hands,
Reluctant to release the strands
Of friendships forged in youthful glee,
Now drifting on a separate sea.
The time has come, the road bends wide,
And though I fear what waits outside,
I know the truth in hearts grown wise:
Some journeys need a new sunrise.
For they are not lost, just far away,
Their footsteps sound on paths that sway.
In twilight’s glow, I understand,
We all must find our own homeland.
So, here’s to those I leave behind,
To memories, both harsh and kind.
We part, but love is never gone,
Our souls still hum the same old song.
I’ll move ahead, with steady pace,
And cherish every fleeting trace.
The past, a guide, not chains to bind,
For those I love are not confined.
In every dawn, in every breath,
I see their smiles, I feel their depth.
The ties that bind, though stretched and thin,
Still anchor me where dreams begin.