Thursday, July 25, 2013

OLD HOUSE

Old house


Few of them I left behind,
Few friends are sunshine;
My homeland, the known terrain,
My old home is still kind,
Every Closet is filled with memories,
Some enormous and few secret stories;

Those young souls are old now,
I never saw them grow somehow;
Now when I look at life,
It engages and always divides,
The old house has mysterious eyes,
Jingle, tinkle, rattle, clink…
Continuous…the boat of Life. 

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