I withered witnessing the fire.
I warned my buds,
Not to bloom
To decorate the grave.
Reshma L R✍️For more insights 🧐"mynewblogspotrk.blogspot.com" & Poetry collections : "Unstrung Notes", "Elysian Florets", "Wonder Meal", "Ormakal"
Pappa, I hate you for leaving without a word, Vanishing from our lives, your voice unheard. I hate you for departing with that gentle smile,...
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