Gold and silver farewell bunting paper cut on white background - isolated
Thinking about remembering me.
Today every eye was crying.
we were sleeping soundly
Crowds were coming to see us.
seemed like a mourning festival
And the soil was calling to us.
was on four shoulders
We were leaving home.
death without anyone in your lap
She was sleeping without asking religion or caste.
two hands on me are clay
The crowd was pouring back.
nik rajpoot
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