In style, in speech, in tone and in texture
The way I walk, the level I understand
The color I like, the fashion I choose
Much later I understood this is wrong
As it brought me nothing but devastation
So, no more I sleep in the same side
With the same side of the same pillow
Dreams start to follow in different shapes and sizes
With colorful petals, in black, in white and in yellow
A flower I see in angles in many a degree
A sense of a gardener crept into my mind
I become a care taker without my knowledge
And start to water day and night
Affinity grows and I become close
Instead to be followed I start to follow
Her each step, her each like and dislike
Now we laugh in same scale, cry in the same pitch
She is happy and I am going well
But the day of decision came and she did not find me
Because in this world of lost identity I never existed.

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