Whatever I want to say,
it's ruined by my words..
my words..
sometimes I feel that
the whole world is a magic,
which is there and not even there,
these wind, clouds, air, and springs..
They signal to me,
how do I say
their story..
I have often thought,
that you, me, all of us are mirrors,
we see only ourselves in all,
I am not there still I am..
right, wrong, yours me,
I have to get.. get my own self..
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