Love buds do sprout, <br />Now and then, <br />Here and there, <br />Everywhere, <br />All in abundance, <br />Across tight borders, <br />Among fretted mass, <br />But sooner or later, <br />Nay, sooner than later, <br />Tragically wither <br />At the scorching eyes <br />Of the vigilant spies, <br />Who are in every <br />Other woman and man <br />In and around. <br />A kind of genocide. <br />28.04.2002, pkd<br /><br />Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-dies-as-bud/
