Boink... boink... goes the sound,
Mind takes a ride in spin round -
Thoughts are too weak to be spun,
While the pen drips ink in fast run -
Beguiled is this life, and the power,
The heart hopes that no one can cover.
Yet I perceive, in sincerity, life's reason;
And I march ahead no matter which season.
I always says say you are good at writing, bouncing back with bang. Too good ..
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sir. I am actually trying to get back to my form!
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