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Jun 2013
The real world feels like another planet,
I find them raising their eyebrows.

No place to call a home,
I feel alienated in this house.

Writing an incessant number of words,
I think as many words as I travel.

No particular destination,
I take this world as my home.

But I do roam the world writing poetry,
Much like A Vagabond poet in love.
My HP Poem #311
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl
Written by
Àŧùl  33/M/Gòràkhpùr - Bháràŧ
(33/M/Gòràkhpùr - Bháràŧ)   
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