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My City, Gen-Next, Slammed

Amateur Thief

With every dusk, when she lays her bag  And throws herself to the corner  I wish, I could soothe her heart  With dulcet tone as hers And make her fall asleep
By Amrit Poudel

With every dusk, when she lays her bag 

And throws herself to the corner 

I wish, I could soothe her heart 

With dulcet tone as hers

And make her fall asleep 


And escape before I get caught 

Stealing all her weary thoughts 

For a thief is a thief after all 

Whether it be of her pain or her love 


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Wouldn't it be wonderful? 

If the wishes were to come true 

Imagine peeping through the window 

And stealing all her pain away 

Whenever she goes astray 


No such wonders exist 

Yet she defies all such list 

Mellifluous sound of hers 

Steals the pain away 

and you wonder, how your 

words don't even rhyme anywhere

Yet you hope for to steal her pain anyway

 

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