#WritcoPoemPrompt49 @AtulPurohit
The days of slate and chalk,
Are not easy to erase,
They hold memories,
Of my childhood,
I drew pictures of houses
with four windows
with a door in the middle
i always drew a garden with flowers
that was always yellow
with a sunshine stuck in the corner of the pavement my door would always be purple
but yes there was always the house
then there would be a tree
with a owl sitting on a branch
or there would be a game of hop scotch with the numbers to twelve
drawed in a pattern
of colour
playing with your friends
throwing a small stone to get your lucky number
because for some reason
there was a lucky number
involved
laughing playing and jumping
until your tiny ankles had enough
this was what you...