Desertion
The poor lady was waiting
On a stripped mouldy street
Her feeble lungs were panting
For drops of moisture
She trembled with broken sob
She was not a bird
Her broken heart took wings
Just to give a newborn kiss and hug
She was waiting
Shivering in hunger
Deserted as a graveyard
In bloodcurdling desolation
She fell in with an incessant emotion
Love is a bland name.
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