Those words, Already seemed stale, fetid, Begging for a release. Trapped inside the numerous folds Of the brain, They craved for fresh air; To be heard, Understood, Caressed by lips, Loved by hearts, Other than mine. So I set them free, To blow in the wind, Floating with the breeze, Dangling on strings Outside windows And sometimes Nestling in midst of leafy boughs Or soaring On a kite’s back. My words, I set them free In hope, perhaps, They can find you.
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