A yesterday , A today .

As toddlers, pencils and eraser were identities of satisfaction and love . Expectations were limited upto hours of play and blissful sleep . Tears rolled down the skin when we suffered losses of nibs and weak sharpner’s . Bottles sticked to neck and boxes of lunch were more surprising than a lottery triumph . Bonds of ultimate loyalty and the natural habitat of teasing were like stains down the pure soul .
A cry of pain
No smiles in vain
A pleasure with all
These were our tiny tales
While we were small .

Change is the only constant , they say . Pencils to pens to markers,
Writing alphabets on the four lined sheets
To using pens for the last breath for signing of property paper,
Crying out of pain  to hiding the same
Being loyal to the world , to being disloyal to the morning alarms as well
And a million other tools turned upside down from then to now .
Where are we ? Ask yourself , knock your heads off for once and use your cause of existence, your heart once .
Answers come roaring down the walls of the skin and you smell goosebumps .
“Soaked for more “ .
This is what we’re infected with . The habitat of being in satisfied and craving more more more and more than anymore.
Our survival is drawn more into materialistic and unsatisfactory gains . This crave , pulls out an under construction soul to a mending soul . Our thoughts about happiness are digging deep into the caves of the vanished .
How long would this fake jewels manage to exist,
How long are we souls going to exist?
A happy life , isn’t garlanded with a million unliving things , but with one living loving soul .
Leaving behind sacks of dust , or a diary of expeditions with the one you’d breathe joyfully with, creates a difference .

Oh I wish i was that tiny little soul once again
I wish my life for once , I could began
For growing up , is a poor place to be
Tears, would wrap up in toilet papers
And smiles , stitched for every thee .

On the battlegrounds of life , one always loves the “little more” one “would or could”  .
And to a surprise when you explore yourself , there’s nothing else you could ever find , to remain kindled throughout .