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Nov 2017
Wish I was younger
In the thick of my stupidity  
Blindly gulping adrenaline
Now garbed in sour rigidity

It's just not nostalgia, its angst
It's just one cigarette, no stress
I'm better than this, my friends know
But can't ask them, they're unknown

People leave, yes I've been told
I'm no better. An island & me, I'm sold
And I rock myself to bed at night
And I kick my mind to be alright

But the sand is slipping faster now
The moonshine itching loud and how
And after all, I am still an imbecile
Ranting about love but a little less cynical
Written by
Moushmi Mehta  India
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