Swati Trivedi


Once Again

Once again the thought has crossed my mind,
What have I done to make my life prized?
With the years pass by like grains of sand,
In the end nothing to hold in my hand.
Each year saying good bye,
Demanding myself for the reply,
What have I done to make my life high?
I might not have countless pesos,
But I have a heart with mighty halos.

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