Read at Radio Univers, UG. 15th Jan, 07.
In my countless years
In every small good deed
That came from me
All I see is tears
For they render me
The beggarly thanks
And this is nothing but pranks
To untruthfully blind me
But such is human nature
Lies, deceit, ill-thinking!
Such treasures compose their hollow stature
And now I see their conscience shrinking
Yet the dawn gives me life
To fight the rife strife of life.
If and when we would decide to read poetry or a piece of discerning article a day, our world is, then headed for a change. No magic potion whatsoever: if there were, politicians would have used it a long time ago. Our mind is all that we have; the only exception to tricks of all corners and angles. Enjoy the luxury and peace of poetry...
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