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Tuesday, 13 July 2010

By Default

If to say I am crippled, still with pleasure..
In ways, I am in summers..
But not by choice..
Like with a sneeze, it is not by choice..
So you say "bless me" in return..

In thoughts and views, my eyes made wander..
In looks to see, what flowers blossom..
In pollen counts, I sneeze..
But it is not by choice, instinct of reaction..
It is not by choice, so you say, "bless me", in return..

In views, made in compliments..
For the eyes acknowledgement..
Views laid bare, in pleasantries..
It's with compliments..

But if to be seen, not in that light..
It is with instinct, not by choice..
So you say "bless me", in returns reaction..
Like with a sneeze, it is not by choice..
For I am crippled in summers..
Still with pleasure, but not by choice..


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