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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.

Unheard echoes

In the silence
The whisper echoed
It was unheard
But the strings of pain
Revealed the agony
And peeped anxiously
Radiance in dripping eyes.

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