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The Sun of My Childhood


I am searching for

the sun of my childhood

it was not scorching

It was smiling in my drawing book

I am searching for

the moon of my story world

It was always ready to sing lullabies

I seek that summer

which was meant for just exams and vacations

I seek that monsoon

which was meant for raindrops and paper boats

I seek that winter

which was meant for hot yellow milk

and bed time stories

I can't understand

They have changed

or they are still the same

But time has changed

and with time my world

has changed

I still miss my treasure box

which was full of seashells

and colorful pebbles

Some old hair clips

and my little bangles

I still miss my tiny tea cups

and my beautiful doll.


© 2020 thoughtsprocess

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