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Freshness is Beauty
Not fresh is she now to her spouse.
She is often put to the disuse,
Much to her disgust and despair.
Beauty deteriorating without use.
Fresh is still she, to other men
And hence appears a beauty
But guarded from any misuse,
Beauty decaying for want of use.
Fresh to him are other women
In whom he finds fresh beauty.
But he is fretted from straying,
Beauty suffering behind the bar.
Change of things – Beauty strives.
Change of mates – Passion lasts.
21.06.96
poem
by
Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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