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When mother asked me,
Why my face was going pink,
In the dawn of that chilly winter,
And you were just sitting beside me,
Turning your head over me,
Staring that what was wrong with me,
And I‘d answered because of heater’s heat,
And I was hiding this mountain of emotions,
Ah you didn’t know I was blushing,
That the man out of millions,
Is just next to me,
Now here it is me, 
Again with face pink,
Writing, for per...Due per...



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