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Weeping Willow

With forbidden joyous windows
 creep here weeping willows
 none other but widows.
Inside or out of shrines
are seen singing whines
akin to kites sans twines.
Thousands of moving shrouds
wrapped in existential clouds,
galley slaves on endless rounds.
To sing or starve offers life
who once was a beloved wife
singing songs on personal fife.
Halt here & there for alms
forgetting all psalms —
now nothing calms.
So turned up the loaded dice
full life reduced to a slice
white drape sans spice.
(c)Dr N K Sharma

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