Bricks

Angika Basant
Jun 12, 1996
1 min read

I was nine. This was my first attempt at poetry.

A very special thank you to Baba (Bhaiyya)

A brick makes a house A brick makes a home Bricks make us feel We are never alone. A brick is red in colour Sometimes its maroon Why isn’t it milky white Just like the moon? If there were no bricks There would be no home There would be no house Won’t we be all alone? Trivandrum

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