I was walking in the park one day.
I saw an old man sitting on the bench with the worst frown I have ever seen.
I was feeling pretty good and decided to greet him "Good Morning.".
There was no reply, but as I decided to leave, he started to mumble.
I was about to dash off when it hit me that the old man might be senile,
But his words suddenly sunk in, and I silently listened to him talk.
Perhaps just to himself.
"I hate children.
Irresponsible, time wasting, ungrateful idiots
When will they grow up and see that the world isn't such a great place.
Why do you waste your time with hopes and dreams,
That you soon learn was all false hopes.
Once society has you within its grasps,
You'll see that this stupid world isn't as fun as your little childish adventures.
Why don't you grow up and stop questioning what had been and always will be.
Why do you conjure up wonderful dreams, that will only haunt you when they break.
Why don't you see that love was an illusion, love is a waste of time.
You grow so close, for them only to leave you behind.
The happiness that you seek, is as equal as the disappointment that the world serves you.
Little children who do not know their bounds, who do not understand their limitations in life.
Such idiots, hurting themselves more as they try to struggle, try to change.
Their parents work for them until their body gets worn out and wary,
Yet those naïve imbeciles try to pay them back, not out of gratitude, but out of guilt.
Throwing away what they truly give you, your freedom, not the material inheritance.
I hate that child…
I hate that child who was I. An old school dreamer.
The myself, that I have forgotten long ago."
After all these years, I never understood what he meant.
I just thought he had a cruel mind to justify the world as a sad place.
But then one day, I found myself walking by the same park.
The old man wasn't there anymore since many a years had passed.
I sat down the same bench he sat on, and that same frown, found its way to the corners of my mouth.
How Very ironic...
Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories; They're all that's left you.
-Simon And Garfunkel (Bookends Theme)