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A blind Gypsy and his piccolo
He pitches a higher octave the inner song of desperation
While his fiancee on picnicking with her violin.
She fiddles to another heart a different tune
And the blind sees her secret whereabouts.
* I love you and hope you love me
I kept my promise, don't keep your distance.
-Evita, Don't cry for me Argentina-
poem
by
Nimal Dunuhinga
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