Memories are songs kept in a jukebox
Drop a coin, and, one by one, they turn up
Walking down that road lined with trees
‘You’re so romantic!’ Gushed my best friend
It had been another day, another year of our lives
We wore skirts with floral prints,
And carried grains of hope on our shoulders
Our hands had no imprints of age
Our skin was soft, our eyes had lustre
Copyright©Madras Courier, All Rights Reserved. You may share using our article tools. Please don't cut articles from madrascourier.com and redistribute by email, post to the web, mobile phone or social media.Please send in your feed back and comments to [email protected]
