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Comments about ada niranjala
I was sweet sixteen,
When I got a mirror.
He gave it to me,
Best birthday gift ever.
A mirror reflects,
I saw my face in his,
And the mirror reflected bright light,
Honestly clear as our friendship.
I neglected the little dust particles,
Never knew it would envelope the surface of my mirror.
Day by day, our images faded,
And the mirror imitated foul.
Thick lines grew on my mirror,
Separating pieces of glass,
The rift in between was strange,
Therefore I put the pieces back together.
Now, the images were unfamiliar
How can ...