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Jan 2020
The world changes
With a gust of air
As I walk down
The once familiar roads
Where I used to
Run around the uncle's field
And pick one of those alluring
Yellow flowers
Then get thrilled by the
Shout of the sweetvendor
All the children ran to him
As he filled the tummies of the insolvent
Those evocations
Are now effaced
Instead there are
Tall structures
Peckish creatures
****** hands
As I try to recollect
The crooked house
Across the street
Where I spent my precious years
Is now gone.
Written by
Kaashvi Jain
70
   Bogdan Dragos
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