An apple amazed Newton,
Gave him a theory.
So be the story,
I wonder what is our story?
Was there a pull that made us fall?
Or did we fall because we were pulled in,
Too fast or too random,
Too fated or mere coincidence.
Staring at an apple,
Red and ripe,
Plucked and ready,
I wonder can a fruit define a theory,
As read in history.
Everything has a theory,
Then searching for our’s,
Were we making history?
Are we theories of love?
Conceived out of a force,
Or pulled by a romantic delusion,
(If anyone has term to the theory which I’m searching, then please let me know.)
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imkeshavsawarn | aBHi | medhachugh |
heena chugh (CHEERFUL SPARKLE) |
© 2018 RhYmOpeDia
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