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   FRAME
                                       

Don’t become my ‘Truth’
When life is telling me lie
Just spill little drink
And see! How cornered actually
Life is

I paint the pain
But it sticks to the brushes
Still holds me.
Shining on the paper
Over the easel trying to tell
I am bound to happen
Don’t frame me.

Scattered colours on the floor
Now utter no more
Holding palette
At the door
I realise painting reflects
What I want to see on the wall.                                Smriti Thakur


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