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The road was all mud she slipped with the drizzle and you couldn't tell the color she wore but her big awed eyes colored the land in all colors making her lose breath gazing at every little thing till over the noise of lightning boomed her father's voice be fast girl before the rain is harder when she would run for his hand and slip again and again counting fun at every fall her eyes a glowing island from the mud scarred face. Once in the market the man gave her a good wash little knowing she was drenched with all the dreams eyes could ever see.
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
To the Market
The road was all mud she slipped with the drizzle and you couldn't tell the color she wore but her big awed eyes colored the land in all colors making her lose breath gazing at every little thing till over the noise of lightning boomed her father's voice be fast girl before the rain is harder when she would run for his hand and slip again and again counting fun at every fall her eyes a glowing island from the mud scarred face. Once in the market the man gave her a good wash little knowing she was drenched with all the dreams eyes could ever see.
pradip-chattopadhyay
Written by
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
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