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Who am I? Perhaps a withered ,fallen leaf from an old,worn-out tree Or an imprisoned bird making a bid to be free. Who am I? Perhaps an object for ornation in this world where endless troubles aroused Or a spark that has been doused. Who am I? Perhaps a loud,unending,horrible cry Or a body with its self dry. Who am I? Perhaps a model of clay who, in the hands of others, is a mere play Or a dying out ray amidst the Hopeful day Who am I? Perhaps a flower crushed by the feet of running life Or a fish in scanty water trying to survive. Who am I? Perhaps the one , the train of whose life, moving on the tracks, suffer frequent jerks and pause Or just a stupid reason without any cause.
~ Namrata Tulsyan ~
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