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Sparsh Nov 2018
Every pen
might seem different,
But the Ink within
Is the same element,

As every human
Is unique and different,
But the soul is source
Of its very existence..

Pens are made
In different color and shape,
We never tend
To discriminate,
So why is this rule made
For us, human race?

As a pen can never erase
It's wrong doing and mistakes,
We also can never change
Any of our past games,
But we can learn from it,
And avoid doing them again..

Atlast the ink within
Starts to disappear,
The slightest amount of ink within
Struggles to appear,

And there comes a time,
When it becomes almost impossible
For it to write..

We also do not know
When will we get stuck, in between
So go ahead and write your best story,
Until, you are living.....

By random writer
Sparsh Nov 2018
Mr Spike, went on a bike,
with his naughty friends for a hike,
everything was still, they were enjoying the thrill,
but they hit a rock and tumbled down the hill,
everyone later sweared that night, never to take spike for a hike..
Sparsh Nov 2018
Staring at the stars that shine,
dreaming about her, is she fine?
Longing for her, everytime
wish I could find her,
and tell her to be mine....

— The End —