Grief, bitterness, heavy tears
Heaved away from me
For shackles of chains drained my feet
To make it slender; thin
My red blood tears
Streamed my face; dried on my cheeks
I called, i screamed
You didn't hear me?
I was slaved; my hands, my feet
Physical. My heart, my mind free
You are chained in your mind, deceived
Your eyes veiled that you cannot see
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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