“A rhyme of love & hate”
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–:: Dr. Biswajit Chattopadhyay ::–
(Cardiologist, Visiting Physician)
She loves me not, I thought she did
I loved her once but my balance is poor
When I meet her I cannot read
Her mind, which is too obscure..
Her lips are glossy, ready for a lock
Her arms are warm, up for a grab
An invisible knife is there for the stab
I keep myself ready for a final shock.
Can’t tell her name, she’s up & in
But her eyes tell a different script
Write a sonnet, on murder & wit?
Only a mirror stands in between..
She loves me not I thought she would
Games we play in the summer woods.
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