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Leader the brain of team, Hard to be one but want to be one, Individual member of team, Having thoughts like, Things would work better my way, .. .. .. .. No two persons are same, Things may work or reverse would happen, Leader thinks for all, Individual thinks how wrong the leader is, Or how correct he might be, Why everyone wants to be the leader, Do everyone have the leadership qualities in them .. .. .. .. No surely, no; But if he gets agressive for that, He tries to supress everyone to be head, And an new individual would grew the same, .. .. .. .. Try to show out the best in you, for you, No one can beat your best, If you are really best, Nor the leader neither the fellow, It's the easiest way to be popular without, much pressure, Much duties, Much responsibilities, Tough to be recognisable at very first, But once it's done, Team got its heart and heart is more lovable than brain. #yqbaba #yqtales #poem #leadership #quality #best #yqpoetry

The Sudden Death of Sangfroid

A letter tucked inside a short stories book
to be ready to answer mother
if asked about the whereabouts

Mother over the phone, never asked after
where or when, the letter bypassed her
to be handed over as a gift
to the girl who quit smoking.

The letter contained a story
of a boy, proponent of puff clouds
made every boy throw butts into dustbins,
throw, even the empty packets, alive,
buried under the curse of friendship.

The girl, teased a pull over of the book,
then left saying she already had it
she didn't need it anyway, smug.

She said 'You look different today!'
The boy showed his sweaty clothes
as the answer, gesticulating hands
in a flourish before saying - 'Yes! I ran!'
The girl didn't show a confused look,
but she mindfully cussed a 'What?!'

An hour later, the boy remembers
a missed compliment to his newly short hair,
facepalming,
his face, his body, his mind, the embarrassment
too big to be covered by a small sheepish smile,
He went 'O crap!' and slept on it.

#poetry #poem #poetrycommunity #yopowrimo The Sudden Death of Sangfroid A letter tucked inside a short stories book to be ready to answer mother if asked about the whereabouts Mother over the phone, never asked after where or when, the letter bypassed her to be handed over as a gift to the girl who quit smoking. The letter contained a story of a boy, proponent of puff clouds made every boy throw butts into dustbins, throw, even the empty packets, alive, buried under the curse of friendship. The girl, teased a full over the book, then left saying she already had it She didn't need it anyway, smug. She said 'You look different today!' The boy showed his sweaty clothes in a Housish before saying 'Inan! as the answer, gesticulating hands in a flourish before saying - 'Yes! I ran!' The girl didn't show a confused look, but she mindfully cussed a 'What?!' An hour later, the boy remembers a missed compliment, facepalming his face, his body, his mind, the embarrassment too big to be covered by a small sheepish smile, He went 'O crap!' and slept on it.