My childhood life
Was an age of childhood, was a treasure of happiness.
wanting to get to the moon, the heart was crazy of butterfly.
Never heard of the morning, nor was the locus of the evening,
Come to school exhausted, had to go to the park to play,
grandma's story about fairies had to get.
paper ship were in the water, every season was pretty.
Were partners in every game, every relationship and every proposal was to be portrayed..
there was not wound tongue, nor was the measure of wound.
there was no any reason of crying, excuse not to laugh..
I miss those days tears in the eyes
We had nowhere to go but to my friend..
amit yadav's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (My childhood life by amit yadav )
- Dear Daughter, Dean Meredith
- That ugly frustration, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Dorian Gray, Nassy Fesharaki
- Reality Is, Esther Thornburg
- Our days are clearly well-known, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Life, samuel sannoh
- Blind, Blind, Naveed Khalid
- A ripple's life, Pradip Chattopadhyay
- What is this world of ours ماهذا العالم .., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Sinners الاثمون, MOHAMMAD SKATI
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Autumn Song, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Heather Burns
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)