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By Bhumika Pandita

The tarnished rings on her hands,

Spoke a story of unfaithful lands;

With nothing but shades of blue and grey,

Hidden under the laced cotton and long hair;

The dried streaks of tears,

The smile painted in fears;

The love story buried in the walls of home,

Home that crawled with hurt and alone;

She no longer meets her friends,

That laugh and touching her sleeved hands;

She treads on the scary streets in the night,

Hoping for a cut, a wound to end in all;

But then she comes back hoping,

That the love story would have a happy ending;

This is how her pain ends,

She is blue and purple under the blue water;

No screams and no cries as her love story dies,

They call it a love story that had a sad end,

But only she knows the story was stained in red.

By Bhumika Pandita

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