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drop by drop, it fell
from the inky clouds up above
pieces of tiny glasses, like
someone is smashing mirrors
engulfed within the inkiness
stained with gloomy thoughts
that’s why we say we’re clouded
from our self-judgement
now those are being shattered
mirrors of self-doubt
so to enjoy the pitter-patter merriment
and mend ourselves anew
Finally, it’s Monsoon here.
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