Unsung

Semi bitten berries colored dust
Picked with love, wiped, popped into mouth
Magic of memories, truest joy to trust
No matter regions, directions, north-south
Most fun were breaking rules to flout
Hiding from grownups, felt so fully grown
Dressed up old, tried altered grown tone
No amount of faking old, ages youth young
Races age unawares, all bemoan
Softly croons the nostalgia unsung
________________________________
Connect with Penmancy:

________________________________

Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!

Author
Recent Posts

Rupa Rao

Rupa Rao seeks to dance like no one is watching, she is also a mother to twins and her day job is in SAP hiring for a Fortune Consulting Big. She is an occasional blogger, writer, poet and a regular lover of nature walks, meaningful friends, places, and things.