I still feel those eyes
dry, soft yet so nice
gazing through the lens
makes me drive so less.
Wonder what the soul was about
that made a loony to sprout out
wipe out the nettlesome
let her breath the open sesame.
Surpassing the serried odds
she stands victorious
conceals her agony in blurred vision
yet buys the souvenir of the lost motion.
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