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Harshita Harry Poem
She was a wife,
A wife who gave her life,
Moulding her tears into smile,
To keep him happy every while,
The cooker felt the tickling aroma
Of love and sparkling nova,
She was a wife,
With kisses and warmth in her bag,
And being his eternal holding the flag,
The world was round for all,
But he was her only scroll,
She was a wife,
Like a pillar in his troubles
In his tears ,blowing joyful bubbles,
Her quest of beauty was not in mirror,
But his eyes were her only trigger,
She was a wife,
Who was a rider of knight,
In her angry fight,
But cried in the room corner,
Just like a lover and mourner,
She was a wife,
Who was more misunderstood,
Being a troubleshooter understood,
She tried to be a good wife,
Whom he thought was just a wife,
Yes, she was a wife,
Who invested her life,
To be a wife.
Copyright © Harshita Harry | Year Posted 2021
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