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Sep 2020
Your chair is unoccupied.
I am waiting for you to come.
You will not.

Why it happens? When
I touch you. You are not there.
A silent poem writes your name.

Untouchable was your
pain. An eagle hovers in blue sky
to pick up the child of death.
Written by
Satsih Verma
31
     Sukanya Sinha Roy, SOM and Traci Sims
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