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Jul 2020
Grasping my pen, i ground myself.
I start to breathe as the nib glides across the canvas.
The ink drops, forming lines, curves & more,
Breathing life into the paper,
My heart starts to beat,
giving me a sense of life.
As i form,
Letters into words,
Words into sentences,
Sentences into paragraphs,
As i try to graph, illusions into reality.
Trying to cling on,
To the little glimer of HOPE,
That you provide me NOW & THEN.
Sometimes i close my eyes Just to get a glimpse of your memory as it gives me hope.
Sovit Pokhrel
Written by
Sovit Pokhrel  30/M/Kathmandu
(30/M/Kathmandu)   
191
   Imran Islam and MS Anjaan
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