Poetry of life - Lonely oldman with his old bicycle under the old trees
An oldman sitting lonely on a bench with his old bicycle under the old trees near by the lake garden. When we are baby in our mother's womb, we are alone. ...
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An oldman sitting lonely on a bench with his old bicycle under the old trees near by the lake garden. When we are baby in our mother's womb, we are alone. Then we grow up as children and then as a adult.Our life became so colorful during this time. Finally we getting older, then we will come back to be alone. That is poetry of our circle of life.
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May, 2016Views
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Awards
Summer 2020
Superb Composition
Top Choice
Peer Award
Magnificent Capture
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