akshaya kumar samanta
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Few Tears Of A Poor Worker
I'm building the roads breaking the stones
It'll be a shiny city
My dreams will still lie under the stones
Called me as a worker...
The more I dreamed of digging the stone
The more the dream is blurred, the dust gets accumulated...
I can't recognize my sweaty face -
Looks like an unshade dead body before the mirror! ..
I got married my beloved.
Somehow the family was maintained.
There was no roof in our open house
When the moon laughed in the fullmoon night
She awaked me up and said: look, look,
Moonlight had spread the veil of her chest ...