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Handmade27 february 2020
Poem
Not knowing―
was a bliss, writing
a poem.
Words fall―
Like small birds,
flying.
I pick up
the sorrow, of the
blue sky
inaudible.
27 february 2020
Not knowing―
was a bliss, writing
a poem.
Words fall―
Like small birds,
flying.
I pick up
the sorrow, of the
blue sky
inaudible.