Someone among the lot, Would send an SMS To watch the moon.. Good days back then. Sun rose beautifully and Even in the sunstes, We had our hearts. We, four-five romantics, Sharing books and poems. Good songs and talking Like everything would Remain the same. We wrote, posted letters To each other. Sometimes Met one another before The letter could reach. Where's that craze gone? The grit of life we could feel Under our noses like we Breathed a special air.. It's been cloudy lately, The moon has been Masked by a haze. The desire to reach out to Each other is so shallow.. That the longing to walk Barefoot often meets with The complaints of the lawn Being damp with The dewdrops.