My teacher told me 

to appreciate the moments that happen every day 

but I think that 

I just looked in for too long so long that 

the moment passed 

and I forgot to 

live in it 

and now I sit at the dinner table old 

with bills to pay and 

bellies to feed, 

and those moments 

which I stared at so 

intently 

with a nostalgic gaze 

are now just fragments of 

a mirror 

swept under my bed 

which I take out from time to time wondering why 

I only 

admired the frame 

and never saw myself

in it 

I felt the nostalgia of time 

before it had passed, 

thus not being a part 

of what I remember 

I cut and cut and cut 

With those pieces 

Just to feel 

Feel a bit of the warmth they preserve Youth is fleeting 

Fleeing 

Leaving 

So I cut and cut and cut 

Till the red that oozes 

Matches the red of the soil 

From the days that we ran 

Through the fields 

And the lines on my skin 

Match grass we lay on 

Counting stars for no reason 

Why are we fleeing 

Leaving 

Stay in the moment 

A little bit longer 

Stay with me 

Just some more 

Please.