Love and Life in Trash
As wonderful as things look
Are not as they are
Even the mountains seem small from a distance
Life is only a thirst to quench, with patience.
Love is a blind game
And should be played blindly
Once the eyes are open in dismay
Love seems as if a burden to pay.
Lists of wishes never to be fulfilled,
On the papers that fly in air,
Find their way invariably to the trash,
The paper as life in love, never get erased.
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