Sunday, July 04, 2021

3470 : Me

You spoke of the sunflower and I realized that I dont have the magic ratio.

You spoke of the river, and I dreamt that I am not in a flow.

You spoke of the song in Hamsadhwani, and it occurred to me that I am tone deaf.

You spoke of that brilliant night, all I can recall was that I felt dark.

You spoke of the Mona Lisa - and I knew that you liked her more. Than me.

You spoke of the war, and my only thought was - I lost.

Everything is about me. Always will be.

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