A girl called Pooja

Its yellowing pages
still being held
by the dog-eared binding

the dreams
of a teenage soul
poems,quotes,
even birthday reminders
and mindless scribbles

there it was buried
under the pile of
scholarly mumbo-jumbo
just like the innocence
left long behind

the dreams of a teenage soul
the aspirations
the real pink words of love
the joys and the frustrations
all real,tangible

no copypasted updates
no morsels of thoughts
or mundane chunks of life
to throw out of a facebook window

I don't know why I cried
when I found out
Once upon a time
much before internet
lived a girl called - Pooja .