Maybe I am dreaming of this childhood, I no longer remember our faces or what we used to look like when we were happy as children playing around the field like birdies learn for the first time how to fly. What a time to be alive and not to worry about your actions and the consequences, to be pure, talk pure, think pure and to love pure. To be honest and away of all dramas, playing with toys but to think outside this box and to swing on this tree from ground all the way to the sky, huh…like all the times we used to swing together. Remember what we used to be? the playground and the falling leaves in the rainy fall you loved. Once you told me will ever the freshness of our love get rotten like all these fallen leaves trampled by lovers passing through dreaming of the one mighty love we dreamt of and the bond we never meant to be broke…