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Jul 2020
You know how
to live. Take me, a
lesser pain comes.

Meaning of life
was difficult to interpret,
sitting in sun.

You can conceive
meaningless numbers. I am
still counting ciphers.

Failed to achieve
something. Anything comes
in my wild poems.

Like hyacinth bell
shaped spikes I spread out
in moon to ripen in pain.
Written by
Satsih Verma
14
 
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