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YOUR ROOTS IN MY GRAVE
If I ever die, come to my grave to bestow blossoms
And add grief to condolencing customs
I’ll embrace your flowers, because I never did, being alive
Or I should say, your flowers waited for my death to arrive
My heart does not desire to see you wail
Not even God will hear your rail
Come and plant the flowers on my grave
Water them, if you want my afterlife to be brave.
Copyright ©
Aucin Sharma
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