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poem

Gray.

Living your dreams,
Held inside a shell.
Won’t it be dream,
If you come out of your well.

Playing and fooling around,
Isn’t going to help.
Hearing everyone’s sound,
Will never be of any help.

Breaking the shell open,
Living as per your conditions.
Coming out of the den,
Moulding the conditions.

Breaking free of the ropes,
Standing by your toes.
Throwing away the hopes,
Is a big nope.

©2020 Arshnoor Kaur Chadha. All rights reserved.

By thebibliophilewriter

A bibliophile by heart and a bubbly girl who wanted to start a blog since 7th grade but is starting in..........

64 replies on “Gray.”

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