The Poetry Marathon

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vellaada

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I am just another bitching memory who is not willing to give good luck away to this story because it’s of no use

 

This night, dad’s name has seized

from my mouth and I am just another body clothed

With fear

In my dream, I saw dad’s body  fading into exile// the only I thing could hear is

silence.              some distance away dad is lying but

refuses to look at me.  This way a god ask for another body.

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