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Friday, June 21, 2019

My four lines #11

Breeze on your face, you carry a song in your heart,
For every beat, the bus finds a pit or a bump to drive over.
When the toddler coos, the women chat over fried roots,
And you smile, create your world in every frame around you.

Posted by Srimathi Sridharan at 12:34 PM
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