We became friends
When he saw me crying
And offered me a tissue
in exchange of my story.
And we became soulmate
When he saw me deserted
And offered me felicity
In exchange of my melancholy.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
My home is
bucketfull of memories,
Where every wall has
a story to tell,
Every door has
a gateway to flashback,
Every room has
a warmth of delightfulness,
Every bed has
a peace of restfulness,
And every corner has
a memory of hide and seek.
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 10:43 AM UTC