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IncholPoem Jan 2019
You  are
crooked.

So,  cooked  food
of my  hand
will  not  be  given
to  you.


You  are  crooked.

So,  cocktail of
  winter  season  is
restricted.


You are
  crooked.


Your  mind  and
  it's  close  friend
brain   all  are
crooked....crooked
very  rudely  
   crooked.

— The End —