attempt, fiction and poetry, fiction&writing, Freehand Writing, Life, Love, Memories, Poems, Poetry, Random thoughts, Uncategorized


I have little fire left inside,
left is little love too,
also left is a little hope altogether
seems so little but true.

I have sight getting blurred,
a heart that is slowing down a little,
a spark that is refusing to die
but ready to burn little.

Little things to cherish for,
little things to worry,
little is the time we have,
then why not make merry?



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