#WritcoPoemPrompt49 @AtulPurohit
The days of slate and chalk,
Are not easy to erase,
They hold memories,
Of my childhood,

Why does she bear the image
of her younger years
as if it's the worst playing movie
she watched in her DVD?

Perhaps it's her faded innocence
that happened
in the years of her childhood.

It's the rusted irons that
relentlessly controlling the beat
of her chained heart.

The light of the blinking bulb flashing in her memory
was the light she saw of the...