'Wish i had that flair...
Like writing a laissez faire...
As someone did
Way back in nineteen hundred forty six...
Deciphering and noting down tricks
Of surviving good...like living with Peace...
Forever,
Wish had I that dare
To live at Nice...
By the sea with all friends there...
A bluish green life...
Small...but huge the same...'
he thought looking at a picture...
Of Mother...
Virgin Mary
Placed at a niche...
Just above an entry door
To someone's hut...
(That door never kept shut
Even for strangers...
Like a Padre named Mackinze
Once kept... )
he just wished...
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