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pooja upadhyay Mar 2017
night in a room,
staring at a saddle roof


a race between watering eyes and a shower,
a *******, can just show her glower

life is all about changes,
she is left with just revenges

floor is wet with dew,
she've failed because of a beau

darkness is standing in a queue,
feelng like truth was never true

book in hand,
pages fold
with every page things get old

eyes are glued on memories,
every page is speaking its story

little girl is dancing in a ball room,
with dulcet tones her hearth get bloom

a bed lamp bight to sunset,
and a ball gown turns to gorgette

alas!
it was just a play of woolgather,
still those memories ***** me up as a needle

a little princess is dying,
she've forgotten flying

— The End —