But how long
My childhood is lost
I feel "it is at tremendous mental cost"
I develop hatred
As life is miserably led
I see barbed wires around
And myself as prisoner found
Even though not really behind bars
But not wanted here anymore
If we take it seriously
It shall be dangerously
Kept in mind about ill treatment
Many children may be turning young at later moment
If they take it as good will gesture
There shall be no problem for future
Many may good citizens and want peace
Rest may want to think differently and terrorize
Many nations have absorbed and extended courtesy
They have taken burden of maintenance already
Some of the help is already reaching
But how long shall we be preaching?
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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