Why must the trees rustle their leaves?
Was I not told that the seas
Were to lie all summer in peace?
On a tightrope of repose and thought
Must I dance with disharmony?
When shall I have a cloud
To call my own?
Why won't the distance
Sing me a song?
2 comments:
The last line is, as Mr. Marathe would say, 'just so' :)
I likes.
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