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Life in Poetry by Aditi Verma

Photograph by Gertrude Käsebier

Silhouettes of A bequeathed past Grinding me against the wall.

Screams of elated joviality Ringing in my ears. I am unable to breath.

Could I live my life As if it were poetry? Strewn out on the paths Leading to uncertainty…

Rushing forth with each whisper Of the wind

Burning, dying Reigniting words…

Mere spectator Would you permit me?

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