http://www.poemswords.com/post/181824801633

For my poet friends

who still wears drab colours

of gloom

who still grieves

believing that what she

lost was a lover,

whereas destiny kissed her

with the voluntary exit

of a looter, a Rogue Rover

in camouflage of love

The sun rises

off with your sack clothes

clad yourself in colors of gold

of bloom, of boom and

throw a ball to welcome

freedom

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