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in #poetry7 years ago

child-3196377_640.jpg

Eyes,
like jewels,
A smile,
innocent in its radiant shine,

Hands that trace her skin,
Singing a rhyme from years ago,
A 7 year old waits,
Remembering her home,
then memories flow.


Image Source : Pixabay


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What a poetry @mindfreak, so short and detailed.

This brings back memories of my childhood days when i do think about home especially when depressed.

Good job @mindfreak!!!

Thank you so much :)

I base my beliefs on the theory (conviction) that the child in us remains and influences us till the day time has no more time left for us. It is sad to see the elderly die, but how much more poignant would it be if we could sense the child inside as it accompanies its older selves to lands unknown?

If words are set in such a way that they make us think and feel, it does not matter how few they were.

I am glad you liked this.

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