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A mediocre

You're enjoying I'm creating Neither hundred percent Nor the hundredth of whole Only like a mediocre of You and me. As long as I'm writing My poem bridges the gap Even though a single Atom of us.

An epitaph...

We're losing each other
You're melting in me
And I'm in myself
Even though I graved my pain
But the epitaph would describe
The memoirs of deceased love.
There is no inscription
Written in words or verse
But in the drop of tears.
The clouds are entwine
With long trees
To bless in the heaven.
My soul is mourning in grey.
All phenomenon is haze.

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