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Sara Shaikh
Poetry
It was in mid July
When I first saw your face
Now I fear I have
Fallen from grace.
The seagulls over our heads,
Us running on the beach,
Have turned into chemtrails and hawks,
Who haunt me, mock and preach.
Now my heart feels like December
And I let it snow,
Because it was written for us
That we will go.
Campus@360 : Weaving Between The Lines
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