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Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Napowrimo 8- Déjà vu

I come here each day
In a wistful hope
A small portion never mind
I still dream about it more.
Toiling hard with my family,
We carve this place into a mould
And a déjà vu moment,
We see the mould come to live,
A bunch of saplings tumble out of its roots.

Copyright ©2016 by Elvira Lobo- Its My Life
Disclaimer: The image(s) in the post are taken from Google. I don't claim any of its rights.

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