I remember those days,
when people used to shout slogans,
from their lungs:
we'll do this, and we'll do that.
Many dead, many injured,
and many in custody;
Some even made, money and fame from this,
but I'm still alive, somehow.
People forget, and time changes;
Now it's silence,
Silence of stinking dead fishes,
and some cats, trying to catch rats.
Those who speak rights, use and abuse them,
conflict also gives birth to hypocrisy:
What I learnt from this:
Trust no one, who's right here?
For me;
Peace was living in small room,
with cat, and fish bowl;
At least, those little fishes,
were alive in my jar:
Tree withers from root.
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