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Manmeet Roy Jun 2018
Years of solitude,
Blessed with love.
Of infinite mysteries,
Stiched with trust.
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.

— The End —