In the market of love,

Most of our hearts are in orphanage.

Only waiting to be picked by someone.

To be loved again,

To be whole again,

Orphaned hearts won't be orphan anymore,

If we learn to adopt them first.

A walk,

A smile,

A laughter,

A ride,

A journey,

And

A warm day

Will come

And the new Sun will rise again.

And unloved hearts will wither away

Like,

Flowers do

In the fall.

By Monalisa Parida

From: India

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