And she decides to drift away
In to the oblivion…
Where none knows “the start and end of her being”
To be the way she is
And not to prove it all the time
A place where the conversations still live
Of delicate dream of May flower
And careful nurture of sunshine…
Without the worries of…
Ration of the day
And obligations of night
Of endless chuckles
And not scheme per seconds…
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