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Mar 3
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".
Ayan Roy
Written by
Ayan Roy  19/M
(19/M)   
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