There are only few you remember the most

There are so many pages in a book but there are only few you remember the most….

Sometimes, the one you don’t need to.. 

and sometimes the one you want to tore, 

the one which you wetted while reading and the one which roasted your soul utmost…. 

Sometimes, the one you talk about happily but cry somewhere deep..

and the one you fought with or laugh on without any weep.


laugh on without any weep….

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A Book. . .

He was a creepy story hidden behind the cover, pretty enjoyable though annoying, adorning the pages with messy stories. An unreadable book filled with miseries.
Once a girl came, she tried to candid his cover. She succeeds in reading him, she sparkled some pages with the glow of her love. His book was a kind of venom, she fields it with love.
She made his monotonous book, a fairy tell.
Glowing his book she reached the creepy, annoying though lovable part and there she found the book ugly. Before reaching the last chapter of his book she left him rotten, unfolding his life in a new sort, fetching his happiness given by herself.
In some ways, she changed the last chapter and made it tragic. First, it was sorrow but she made it bliss. And while leaving, she made his story tantrum, tormenting, full of silence, messy than before.
He was a book written in the letters which were amorphous. She made them decipherable and left open for all.
But she scratched his cover so well and left him crushed. He is now readable to all, but with a crushed scrappy cover.
Now, who will pick a book with this kind of cover?
If you didn’t like the story, just read it once again with a slit change.
Put a girl on boy’s place and boy on girl’s place. #strange