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		<title>swati | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/swati</link>
		<description>The original writings of author swati</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Cold</title>
			<description>Distant and farawayIn the summer sunshineOf her mindShe hears the warm whispersOf her unfulfilled life&amp;nbsp;Lying in the meadow of her dreamsDaffodils encompass her sensesHer heart risesOn the shoulders of loveShe could not share&amp;nbsp;The sunshine feels likeA cherub&amp;rsquo;s..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swati/299875/</link>
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			<title>Plastic roses</title>
			<description>Waking upWith the hope of starting overThe familiarity of the morningIn someDesperate and lonesome wayBreeds a new beginning in her heart&amp;nbsp;She cradles her large heartAll dayProtecting itFrom his indifference and wordsAs much as she can&amp;nbsp;But she returnsWith it brui..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swati/293997/</link>
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			<title>Happiness</title>
			<description>That one moment of belongingWhen you are encapsulatedIn a fragile domeHolding togetherYour heart&amp;nbsp;Cracks appearJetting a rush of darknessInto your euphoric illusionThe shattered glassOpens up the gorge of realityWhich the momentDefiantly hid&amp;nbsp;Suddenly the memory o..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swati/293939/</link>
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			<title>change</title>
			<description>The cold shiverOf inconsiderate windMakes a fragile autumn leaf fallFrom its mother tree&amp;nbsp;It floats in the airElegantlyOblivious to the knowledgeThat this is its last displayOf being&amp;nbsp;Landing on the groundGentlyA blind passer-byCrushes its frail bodyIn its blind..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swati/293938/</link>
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			<title>Reality - Joe's poem on the birth of his son Alon</title>
			<description>The reality of vulnerable&amp;nbsp;is the fear of being seen&amp;nbsp;without the masks that keep the world away&amp;nbsp;from our demons and our deams&amp;nbsp;But to stand tall and naked&amp;nbsp;before all the world to see&amp;nbsp;without shame or changes&amp;nbsp;for our flawed humanity&amp;nbsp;..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swati/293275/</link>
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			<title>My mother's hands</title>
			<description>They are not displays Of skin deep beauty anymore,That fadedWith meaningless youthAnd has now sunk inTo represent the linesOf a humble life&amp;nbsp;The once smooth And porcelain skinIs now tanned and wrinkledFrom hours of workIn between conversationsFilled with nostalgic laugh..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swati/293235/</link>
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