Colours Of Love - Vi
A Aniruddha Pathak
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A middling kind of love,
That which meanders, nor rove,
Love of the mundane most world
Lofty that can't be unfurled,
No less than you give, you take,
Akin to baking bread, no cake,
And Pragma, how we call it,
‘O Fraudulent, I too can cheat'!
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Musings | 30.02.2019 |
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