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Raindrops
It holds a lot of pain,
The destiny of rain,
few drops touch the face,
one by one,
some touch the ground,
and burn...
The drops blot hundreds of fates,
some early, some late,
they give a thousand emotions
to get back only two,
Not only the pleasure,
it accepts sorrows too...
Its fate lies on where it falls,
a soft face, a week roof, an enormous lake,
even a barren land calls,
Its effort to be unbiased,
is ruined by the distinct,
either collected or wasted,
bound by only two instincts...
Something which just falls and splashes,
gives reasons to live and die,
it always doesn't get what it deserves,
still the circle goes by...
they say the drops are dirty,
acidic, something in which moans lie,
But..
It will always fall with the same old innocence on your cheek,
Close your eyes, the heaven passes by..... :)
poem
by
Apurva Jain
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