Thursday, November 22, 2012

Another Piece of Junk

A squint kite,
Flying free like an open wind,
Across the sea with no fight,
There is no lose nor win,
It can’t be lost nor be found,
As it shatters from every mind,

The joy of feeling free,
Is just a temporary felicity,
As the time grows,
Left us in shambles,
With no feeling of regrets. 

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