Black umbrellas out, stood men,

Black were thier shoes, nine or ten,

In the corner she cried her eyes out,

For her mother lay dead, without doubt,

Consoled by her kin, for she sorrowed within,

All payed thier homages, all grieved thier sin,

And then came along this handsome man,

Fair, tall with a rich flair, she was an awestruck fan,

But she never knew who he was, niether name, nor place,

The guy went away, leaving her in bent state,

And to watch that guy again, she needed a funeral on plate,

She stood thier under her viel,

Waiting for that guy, at her sister`s burial.

Poetic Lust !!

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