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 Sep 2012 Sarah
Aditya Bhaskara
Word is it that he is gone

No more he walks by that lane
No more he whistles by your window
All that you found inappropriate

He went away with a broken heart
And I did not hear the songs, as he passed by,
Which he was so accustomed to stroll with

His face white against the crimson rays
Did not glow anymore with tickling blood
In such a way the quiet seeped into his veins

You can live in your world happily
Which is no lesser than a cage
Now that nobody would ask you

To walk out

— The End —