If a roadie writes a letter ...

'Dear...'
he wrote...
Sighing both
Happy and sad...
A bit sad...
Not much to be overcome such
That Happiness got hurt...

'roads...
Are meant to be traversed...
Rode through...
With the feel of air...
Happy breeze...
Trees lining fair...
And be it dark
Or bright
The sky above... there...
Is always a company...
A company either sunny...
Cloudy...
Greyish...
Blackish...
Or simply silvery by moon
Or starry...

Roads are meant to be
Traversed...
Just that...
The roads are made for that...
And we both too!'

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