The Old Bookshop

As I walk in the old bookshop I travel to the past like one with the time machine,      I see the old yellowish pages not aromatic like the new one some folded pages, some covered well. Each book I hold try to tell a story  or maybe many stories, stories they have witnessed … Continue reading The Old Bookshop

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I Fear When you say to Volunteer An event to make people smile, laugh I fear that I will burst into tears or I will take a corner and sit down there I fear some kid will then ask me why I am sad but I am just silent I fear you will not understand … Continue reading