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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#11401voted by our readers
By Anonymous
Oh those days, how I picture myself sitting under old trees, and looking at the mirror, I realised the old me. The memories of my childhood, once livid in the past, now sad...
Oh those days, how I picture myself sitting under old trees, and looking at the mirror, I realised the old me. The memories of my childhood, once livid in the past, now sad...