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Manmeet Roy Jun 2018
White
Is bright,
But flies by the night.

White things never stay along;
Now they're here, now they're gone.

The winds will carry off the clouds from the sky.
The radiance of the sunshine eats up the snow,
A heart as pure as white will no longer remain so;
White sheets of paper end up getting inked in blue,
The moon shines only to disappear into the dark sky,
White lies hide themselves in the blackest of sins.
I often wonder where they go.
Manmeet Roy Jun 2018
Years of solitude,
Blessed with love.
Of infinite mysteries,
Stiched with trust.

— The End —