Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Only Write Poetry Comments

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Could the ocean ever dream of relinquishing its majestic waves; flowing as placid as the solitary pond spawned by the monsoons?

Could the sky ever dream of existing without its conglomerate of puffy clouds; stare sheepishly towards the earth like a dead canvas painted with blue?
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Nikhil Parekh

Nikhil Parekh

Dehradun, India
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