I was trying to mend
my mutilated poems without you.
Sometimes a nimble hand hurts.
When you cheat on the
truth. I knew you were not made of
same element like me.
Age has caught up with
my pains. I cannot revolt against
true love. Beauty is always cruel.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: August 21st, 2021 20:07
- Category: Nature
- Views: 7
Offline)
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