Hopes are like butterflies you keep them free they beautify your world you trap them to confine the beauty the collapse .Something like that concludes on in caseo f two kind of people who canb e categorisedas exceptions.The painters who trap them forever in theirc anvas and those photographers whose lenses keep them alive .The girl i knew is none of the above mentioned categories still hope was her playmate .Unlike anyother 21st century kid she was a non believing creature to the concepts like valentine but unconveyed blind believer of true love .But hopes are meant to be shattered .Infatuations came to her life some even claimed to have really loved but true love was what she thought she longed for and the the key ring she bought at the age of 16 was never brought of the packet.And kept in the locker safe and cold.People came and drifted away like waves of ocean but the hope that she will find her real loveso me day existed somehow within .She finally made her mind that she found the one she waited for so long and the 4 year old yet new less costly gift was freed of the packet wrapper .But hopes are meant not to be shathered but like the names written on sea shore the waves of time materialism and genuine yet hard facts wash them away and the final fate of the much cared nurtured orinary key ring was in a way blown .Gone with the wind .The fragrance of the hope still enlightens the vaccant place in the locker but the place it was suppoce to spread the perfume is perhaps a giant leap away from the fools paradise
