"Inner child"

Under the grape vine,

on the swing, I used to sit, 

with a book in my hand.

Sometimes, I sat on the marble floor

 with my feet on the cemented stairs.

 Those were the times,

when our whole world felt like home. 

It all felt real.

In the concrete jungle,

"Real" today is overrated,

Smiles, looks, expressions, relations,

 all seems plastic.  

My inner child connects with

a bronze statue of a child

 placed in the campus 

of a high rise society,

 with a book in hand,

 all day and night,

as if observing the tiny details,

looking at the larger picture,

through the magnifying glass.

 The pros and cons of growing up.

-payalagarwal

#TSL #NaPoWriMo #Day5