In The Fond Memory Of The Society - Poem by Raniyal Niyada
Tonight in this crowd I stand
In a state of scrimmage...
I see the brutality of the society
The poor becomes poorer
The rich, richer...
That girl cries for help
Her cries go unheard
For the crowd is busy
Running behind the follies
They smashes the strings
Only to pull it down
And then they stamp on it
Rushing towards the glitters
He sells his daughter for money
She murders her husband for fame...
Cursing and blaming one another
They move forward, together.
Here the wants and needs
Of the flesh is quenched
No mocking emotions follow
The tissue is thrown away after use..
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