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Jul 2020
The commence of a true bond,
Bond of friendship,
The peregrination with thee,
None craved outstrip.
We had motives, a-lot.
Gaiety was the consequence, as thought.
The problems overmore kept at bay,
Unique were the moments, count everyday.
Such was the relationship with thee.

In the juncture of solitude,
Absence of thee haunts.
Lacerates the heart,
Just as roses with thorns.
None but time is to blame,
For the divergence, that came.

The fun then,
Turned into memories,
Alluring than the sceneries.
Thought leaves no hints,
Indelible are the imprints.
Written by
Amit Gautam  20/M/India
(20/M/India)   
54
 
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