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Prapti Gandhi
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12
Poetry
Dried flowers,
Setting sun,
Tree with no leaves,
And friends who don't seem to care,
Once bloomed flowers,
Once rage-full afternoon sun,
Once an evergreen seeming tree,
And a blur memory of being friends,
Flies not able to fly around flowers,
Clouds unable to move forward in dark,
No longer the chirping of birds,
Me refusing to accept the truths
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