winter...

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grey colors

rain...

the smell of warmth

shadows of worried smiles,

and echoes of innocent hearts...

your name on my diary pages

and the memory of your eyes...

waiting every night to faint myself asleep and,

watching you hunt my dreams...

sometimes I think of you as an angel

sometimes I think of you as a ghost,

sometimes I find myself in you,

sometimes I get lost...

-Abrar Ati

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