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Jan 2016
02
Each day, a passerby comes
wandering into my mind,
with no intention to leave
this sorry inn behind.

Its way the passerby forgets
amidst regretful rains
with feet adorned with thorns,
and memories and pain.

You, my lovely passerby,
please exit my brain.
The heart's already marred,
Now thoughts worship your name.
Written by
eilaf  22/M/Pakistan
(22/M/Pakistan)   
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