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Oct 2013 · 849
AT THE WITS' END
Nischitha Oct 2013
he started out on a ***** road !
his need for money obscured the mode.
alarmist spoke ...that he had a gun ..
no!  not until then he had ever touched one..
he learnt to fly..without the wings
coming down..was the hardest of things.


when he heard  about the shootout ,
his heart sank ,but without  the faintest of hope ,
he sincerely wished he could cope
he saw  the emptiness in his soul,
and  his innocence burnt!
a little late but lesson learnt .


his boss , the one who pulled the strings
knew what happened to a kin of his
he gave a scornful laugh
for all he was odious ignoble and repulsive bluff

had anyone shown him the light
he would have followed right.
for all he was just a boy,
Gullible timid and coy
again in the  hearts of his heart
a healing fountain could start
he had died; even before he could bloom
it wasn't even time yet he slept on his tomb

— The End —