The tongue of the thought!
We have stopped drooling,
When we were in the wombs,
Where we gulped the love of
Amniotic fluid, the naval was connected,
To the worldly cord, that taught us lessons,
The future depends on the spot,
Where it ends, nothing is stagnant,
To be stale, full of bugs and without wings,
Whatever alternative we have,
To hold the hearts using our claws,
That hurt a lot or the wings to escape,
From the reality of no food be found in the offing,
Of the space, set foot on the ground,
Where elephantiasis not pierce into our blood,
The heart that has fallen into the mud,
Can be rescued, cleaned and sterilized,
When the hope is our truthful friend,
The wings of unworthy dreams can be pruned,
Buds of roses can sprout from the spot,
That is delightful to the tongue of the thought.
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