Pitter patter go the little children footsteps.

Giggle giggle laughs the innocent child.

Knowing no enemy, only friends. Giving openly and freely to a smiling face. Blushing and chuckling at any small game.

Innocence is the name of the game. the origin of even the meanest and toughest thug.

it it slowly washed away by the hardness and reality of life. Shredding away like a scar that was once present.

Little children, hold on to innocence because once its gone not even the creator Himself can etch it back.

– x – x – x-


( i )

Tick tock. went my grandfather clock. Always screaming the burning of time.

Time. What is time? Nothing but the slicing down of each breathe of life. Be it a milisecond, second or hour.

But who is to slice it down? Know how many more breathes we ought. It even seems odd that they are even timed.

Nowonder I remember the words in the Holy book;

“Our days are numbered but whoever does the will of God lives forever!”