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Lavender thoughts hung in her heart, airing
out her blood with the scent of daydreams.
She wanted to believe in love letters
but a blue fox warned her not to.

Handwriting is a dying art he said between cigar puffs. Even we know that.

She longed for the purr of an R, the double swerves of an S.

The snow brought her breath to life
as she stood by the frozen pond, staring up at the stars and she wondered



if she’d ever hold someone’s heart on paper.
Àŧùl Sep 2014
As a student you hold a pen,
Just so very often.
Hold it carefully and take its care,
For it can get broken.
Threading all the letters beautifully,
Cursive you write so neat.

We complement each other,
That too so well.
You need polishing just a bit more,
I need a lot of it.
Earlier my handwriting used to be worse,
But now it has improved as you have come.

Come and write your name,
Not on paper but on my arm.
Come now and come closer to me,
This feels like a dream materialized.
Now that Both have chosen The Best,
I am just glad that we chose each other.

I look at your handwriting,
It means the world to me dear.
When your heart is so beautiful,
Your handwriting is also gorgeous.
Yeah you saw my handwriting,
It is not like your elegant one.
So I am content that our children'll have beautiful handwritings.

Your handwriting tells me that you're innocent,
It also showcases a beautiful heart which I love.
Capitalize on your boon of good handwriting,
Success beckons you and now you just need to study sincerely.
A poem for your handwriting Kripi.
I love everything about you.
Everything about you is so ****.
Your handwriting is no exception.
Look at this poem's number!

My HP Poem #666
©Atul Kaushal
Cursive attempts;
  simple words
misread
misinterpreted
mislead
every juncture
appendage
spins
dear readers
a web of confusion
blame not the spider
deceiving its prey.
to people with unreadable handwriting.

— The End —