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Feb 2020
Birds drop dead at my feet
I don’t know- if to die myself, or to give them life.

Now I know that heaved wings look like
Grey snows melting into each other

Life vaporizes from the summer sky
As a wounded dove trembles in my lap
Written by
Rimsha Afreen  16/M
(16/M)   
321
     Arcassin B
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