Climbing the tree house
In our old woody bungalow
after ages, gave me a feeling
that I skipped my childhood.
Photo albums gave good vibes
In that epiphyte grown land
Algae took its prey over the morass.
I wished a pray seeing at the broken stairs,
If my brother was alive I could climb down without any haste.
Rakhis boxed in that tree house,
a place for our mischivenes to prosper
made me shiver out of my veins.
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