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.
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