Memories, like calendars, laid out in time,
A nostalgic reflection, a nostalgic rhyme.
Pages turned, days gone by, moments we hold dear,
A bittersweet reminder, of laughter and tears.
We can look back, on memories so bright,
Revisit the moments, that shone with delight.
But like the calendar\'s pages, that can never be torn,
We can\'t go back, to the moments that are sworn.
The past is a canvas, painted with hues of old,
A watercolor landscape, with moments to behold.
We can gaze upon it, and reminisce with a sigh,
But the brushstrokes of time, can never be applied.
Oh, the memories we\'ve made, like leaves on a tree,
They rustle and whisper, secrets of you and me.
We can collect them, like autumn\'s golden glow,
But the seasons of time, will forever keep them low.
So let us cherish, these memories we hold,
And though we can\'t go back, our hearts will never grow old.
For in the calendar of life, each day is a new page,
A chance to create, and turn a new stage.
Yet, in the silence, we\'ll hear the echoes of the past,
A whispered reminder, of memories that will forever last.
And though we can\'t go back, we\'ll hold them tight,
For in the calendar of memories, love will be our guiding light.