a hindi poet of the yore
my toughest nerves
simply shade into blues
I know
it CAN never happen
rose gardens can only be made in the skies
sand dunes have to flow
at the mercy of the winds
my heart asks
Darlin
don't be that much cruel
can you make
my rose gardens
and sand dunes
at least with your infinite some pencil
I sometimes see myself
then my heart
and then my pencil
it says a lot
but I do not ask it
to run
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