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  • Writer: Srikari Pasumarthy
    Srikari Pasumarthy
  • Jul 5, 2016
  • 1 min read

There is a place,

Deep inside my heart.

It is dark as blindness,

Silent as a forgotten melody.

I sit there all alone.

i am clueless as future,

Forgetful as past.

My tear drop has no source or maybe a lot.

Yet i look happy

A plastic smile sprawling across my face.

Is it really supposed to be this way?


 
 
 

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