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In the brightest hour of day
when I recall you
you avoid me with plea
that you are too busy.
When sun set in the west
inside scattered thought
you still in your work wave
to catch the last fish.
Night in its magical touch
sing the sweetest song,
Amid the darkness
I find my soul waiting
with desires and dreams
for a little care
and share,
of the story of whole day,
you in your deep slumber
whisper the turn and twist
of your schedule
as you are a perfect man
to worship work as God.
I'm now
a learner
following your path,
Sometime think
is this a true color of life???
or, a trend of civilization
where we are the busy particles
of a great project.
..............................
by sarojini pattayat-23/03/2013
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