You know what these bubbles mean to me
Each one a dream that for years has lived with me.
Now with my years coming to a close
I'm blowing them out as I am slowly losing hope.
But then I see my little grandson,
Running towards me - jumping high, struggling yet smiling
And in his gentle tiny hands, trying to hold-fast my dreams.
All images and writing in this document © Pooja Kumar, 2014.
Now with my years coming to a close
I'm blowing them out as I am slowly losing hope.
But then I see my little grandson,
Running towards me - jumping high, struggling yet smiling
And in his gentle tiny hands, trying to hold-fast my dreams.
All images and writing in this document © Pooja Kumar, 2014.
These bubbles are our dreams
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