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O Stranger
I could not see you O stranger
You are permanent resident here.
I am wandering the poor traveller
For a purpose that I do not know
And also I could not hear you
For the ego that engulfed me.
I could not tell a word that has
Fragrance of truth and that is fair
The way that lead me is nor proper
On the stair and I do not care.
O stranger, Where are you I am here
Not matching with anything and
Going back and back in my thought
And action that has contradiction.
poem
by
Gajanan Mishra
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