More often than not has life reverted,
lurching back and surging ahead,
Sometimes giving companionship but often leaving me deserted,
Fiddling with agonies hoping to get ahead.
It's not the absence of love that bothers so much,
As it's being in reach yet being unattainable,
Due to the feeling of doing injustice,
to one or the other unwanted love of your lives,
Facing the scorn of the fate,
Travelling among pains makes me irate,
Watching every opportunity to turn as life's bait,
To turn all my efforts to live turn to waste.
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