When I squeeze
myself in to a squash of depression
Closing the doors of my mind,
locking myself in a lonely cave
wandering aimlessly
in the aimless thickets of life,
a cool breeze gives a knock
at the door; I usher
friends as sweet fragrance
to turn every bit of life
to a festival, a celebration.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem