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Date: 11-Jun-2017


To dusk of life, from being a little boy,

Who added sorrows to my basket of joy?

In the dark and lonely womb, I was content,

Till I was extracted in a painful moment.

Opening eyes was difficult, in the intense light,

But whatever I could see, looked bright.

Air I could breathe, world I could see,

Most beautiful face, the person who reared me.

Happiness was at its zenith, worry not a bit wee,

I was the king and all served me.

First sorrow, first interruption of joy,

Was a little instance, a broken toy.

This was my first brush with tragedy,

Colossal it was at that time, and sans remedy.

In the world exterior began my voyage,

Broken toy was innocuous, compared to worldly rage.

Each was out to hurt other,

That’s why I was born, O mother?

Where was the comfort and glee of my cocoon?

Love and affection seemed as far as moon.

Strangers would push me, trample me, brush me aside,

Mistrust, hatred,intolerance spread far and wide.

Descendants of Eve and Adam,

Are a family, but are creating bedlam.

More we are hurt by people, whom we trust,

Zillions of innocent bubbles of faith go bust.

Hearts are broken,distributed is pain,

Human nature by default, is becoming inhumane.

Now when I am near the last page,

I sit alone and wonder at this age.

Looking back at page one of life’s album,

Was crying at birth, a premonition of things to come?


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