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Mar 2019
How different will it be if her laugh
was fleeting.
The sound would be deafening.

How difficult will it be to talk about
her grace.
There will be no trace.

How detrimental will it be to forget those
sparkling eyes.
They were full of lies.

How Dark will it be if her breath
was fading.
Oh, can the birds please sing?
Tattwankshi Kanojiya
Written by
Tattwankshi Kanojiya  23/F
(23/F)   
322
 
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