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

The world was small,
Like a tiny lunch box.
Innocence was the beauty of eyes,
Scratching the pyramids,
circles my favorite one.

Hands colored into whitish flakes,
snowed abound,
Glittering eyes eager...