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Nov 2017
Thinking about home.
Where there is my dad, where there is my mom.

Struggling out here and it doesn't feels good.
Missing your love and your tasty food.

People are made of stone playing with my feelings like I'm toy.
Thinking about my own place where there is happiness, where there is joy.

Missing my room and keys of my bike.
Missing my family cause they knows my like and dislike.
Written by
Krispin Lama  25/M/UAE
(25/M/UAE)   
116
 
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