A closed up bud says enough about me
That I can't resist anything but
The moisture of love and a
Sunny warmth, unless I be me.
Every daybreak I rise, after getting up,
Slumbering my eyes upon a will, a desire,
Whose nasty habits pluck flowers, and
Inspires my contentment to unrest.
I see people strolling by my side;
Dozing, bidding for the Unseen Good.
Even in soft showers, they go ahead
Without progressing, in ground state.
Oftenly they say, they know, they...
Whatever for they plan and do?
But for same instances, their words
Make me undergo no change.
This legacy of going on men
Is always continuous with me.
Their commaless habit, often praises
Me and my distinctly drawn mind.
This p
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