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A word’s journey | Shweta Taneja
A Word's Journey Hesitant She resides On a quivering, moist lip. From the broken, beating, dying heart To the boiling cortex lobe Through an ignited stimuli, To the barking voice box. She came with lightening-speed Grabbing on-edge, electric nerves An angry flash from the larynx Tornado-speed to the brink Of the quivering, moist lip. She
Shweta Taneja