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Dandruff

Dandruff spreads on my scalp in the parching wind blowing from the ocean of thoughts. White dust lies scattered as the ash of tension. Nails plow the scalp. Harsh pleasure rises from the furrow. My hair loses its vigor. A sticking friend often looks for an existence. There is dandruff on the scalp of the world too. Hairs fall down dead. A new face grows above corpses.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 2/10/2017 8:57:00 AM
Thank you for your good words, Reason! All the best!
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Date: 2/10/2017 8:34:00 AM
Quite an analogy, MV, taking a common element of our lives and building a thoughtful piece concerning it...I check for dandruff on my husband's jacket at church weekly and perhaps I should check my thoughts at the same time.
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