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Rated: · Monologue · Other · #1861067
my fantasy
How we yearn to the days of our innocent childhood . when we used to draw with our little hands  blue sky  , yellow sun,  green  nature, small birds  ...and  kids playing around the river  with enchantment and gayness ....our  imagination was  extended to the  beautiful image of lifewith warm heart and  sharp eye full of hope ....now ...all this inoocene .. hope.... imagination... are gone .... ther  is no back  to the old days ...hopefully we have memories  of which we insistingly  hold  the last string of Hope  in this cruel life 
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