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Memorabilia: My problem child

The neighborhood murmurs, In revival of pages turned over, Watching time tick by, Singing my despicable song, With well versed notes, I type this personal parable, Here around unseasoned souls, Swayed by words that remind, Me of dried kisses and promises, "Well" she said, I knew what she said, Which she never did, "You're too good for me", she cried; Like golden chimes in my temple rang, With deafening echoes; tinkling they sang, And a lifetime later, "Well" sighed I, "my problem child" smiled I; I died inside that night, yes did I Many came and then left; Dancing in stance; scouring romance, Amidst fire burnin through the night, I hate to admit I too now have joined the dance!! Well the sun still shines quite bright alright, Its me within no more, although, in delight; Hailing showers of sandstones, In them I'm drenched, But when I'd bleed all away, I'll drench no more, And if I've drenched all away, I'll love no more!!
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Written by
vivek-bhargav
Indian
Published
Jul 16, 2012
Lines·Words
30·164
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