Childhood Days

The chirping of birds,
And the rising sun,
 The wakeup call,
And the crumbled sheet.
These rushing hours,
And devoid of sleep.
Burdened eyes,
And the trudging mind.
A child in me looks for childhood days.

Day too long,
But time runs short.
And the pell-mell of ascending ladder I see.
Long lost trail of impishness,
And the forlorn figure of me.
To the smile,
And the impeccable face.
A child in me looks for childhood days.

Tattered soul,
And the grotesque limbs,
Weary me and the broken wings.
Shade of peace,
And the joy of love,
These blank pages,
And the bottle of ink.
A child in me looks for childhood days.

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