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any picture comes to my mind, i try to give it a body of words, love to sit on other blooms, for honey, color, fragrance........
Wednesday, 9 September 2015
Boredom
Time knows
How to bore an empty me to death
When I don’t feel like doing anything
Not even fill time with words
Then
Words don’t come to me easily
I look askew
I don’t like
The framed grey sky’s look
Where has its smile gone to?
The sun is hidden
So will be the stars
So will be my Muse
I want a forget-me-not sky
To pour all my lost similes,
Lost smile
But I told you already
Words don’t come to me easily
These times
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