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Ayan
Poems
Mar 2019
Coward
The taste of fear lingers
In my mouth,
Turning the breadth warm
Against the wintry crowd.
A glass of whiskey
Studded with ice,
Covered with droplets
With the passage of time.
Pleading to let things go
Saying,
"It doesn't matter no more".
Written by
Ayan
20/M
(20/M)
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imperfectstranger
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Shiv Pratap Pal
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