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Feb 2017
Lovers come,
They linger,
Then leave.
And what stays behind lovers,
Is gaping emptiness,
A lack of aim,
A solo game.
My HP Poem #1440
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl
Written by
Àŧùl  33/M/Kàrnál - Hàryáņá - Bháràŧ
(33/M/Kàrnál - Hàryáņá - Bháràŧ)   
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