The orphan

The night is windy and it's little cold,
By the window,she sat with stories untold
Stars were shining,refreshing her memories,
With him and only him.
Flower buds were waiting,like she for him.
The sun will come, its sure
And hugs the buds to blossom.
Waiting made her anxious
But promise made her serene.
And waiting was for her son
Still continues for months
In the walls of old age home.

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