A Good Art

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The wind blows its December feels
Tightly hugging my bare shoulders
Oh I remember how fondly your head would rest on it
And it’s still warm and you were gone, albeit;

For quite, only your love could blow my feet off
But now, even just the memory of you shuts me off
I’m wandering of our “what ifs”
Though I know our love was never one of the greatest

But you had this special place in my heart
Your name had perfectly invaded it yesterday
Yet abandoned it the very same day, in your most unexpected way
And till now, I’m still wondering how a shattered heart can be a good art..

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