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PREMATURE GRAY
Men and women turn old and gray,
Having led lives, straight, astray,
But what of those young souls who,
Are prematurely gray, never ever bloom.
There are faults and follies everywhere,
This universe is full of them,
Systems have an age in time's span,
But why do some end up too soon.
Premature gray, bare trees in spring,
Young souls for love dying!
A withered 'Majnoo'* in a desert
A 'lifeless' Laila* for him dying.
