Culture / Uncategorized

My Valentine

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For those, who falls in love with their Work.

As the new morning arrive, I look around and find. To whom should I call, My Valentine.

As I step out in winter wind, The air disarray my hair.

The dryness of skin, And the shivering lips.

I drive to the office, Hoping I would distract for a moment.

As I follow the same path of line, I still hover for zillionth time,

Who will be my Valentine.

 

Reaching the parking lot,

Searching the identity card,

I unlock the door

Unknowingly moving towards my routine.

 

And I sit at my favorite place.

Turning on the monitor

In front of me is coffee and a pen, kept with a leaf.

Reminding of my passion, in just a simple wallpaper.

 

I reopen my last day’s work,

Realizing the state of mind,

I switch back to my work,

For else I’ll have to stay till 9.

And everything falls in place suddenly,

Maybe it’s just a matter of time.

Systango is where I belong to,

The place is already mine.

But for this year I would say,

Work is my valentine.

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