A faded rose is not a worthy gift;
Yet playfully I offered you one.
A broken heart is not ready to love;
I waited for time to heal its wounds.
With the rain, my heart danced,
The earth blossomed into petals of joy.
But you were no longer around,
One for whom the roses bloomed.
Evenings at the Indian Coffee House
In this middle age, I wonder how life has turned out to be, so different from the images that I had when someone asked me to ima...
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