Neither yours nor mine.

This happiness and sorrow
are neither yours nor mine.
Have thought of it several times,
if I could have placed my head
on your bosom and cried,
my grief would have ceased,
nomore to be a resonance of just mine.
They tell me ill about you
and I pay heed to it half-heartedly
as it is reasonable to confront
their dishonest intention
with my small pretention.
I know, the moon looks what it looks
because of those black scars only.

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