In the evening
When she comes out to place
A lamp on the stair
When in dim light
Of gloaming her eyes shine
Shedding a mystic glare
I start loving her
More and more and wish to
To make her mine
But she comes out
In the morn with tears in eyes
With face sans a shine
May be for her
I am not made and she gets a
Lover better than me
I keep on waiting
Under the tree from where to
Her mood I can see
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