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Nov 2014
I wanted to laugh.
You took away the giggles.

I wanted to fly.
You held me by my wings.

I wanted to read.
You took away my coffee.

I wanted to sing.
You took away the notes.

I wanted to write.
You burned my paper.

I wanted to leave.
*The diamond shone on my dead finger.
Archita
Written by
Archita  New Delhi
(New Delhi)   
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