The Lost Freedom! - Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Darkness of grief left to ferment,
Can drink as the ale for excitement,
Quietness of night can last for few hours,
The bright sorrow returns to haunt and cleaver.
Man is made of regrets, as his happiness,
Makes him thrilled for a short while, cheerfulness,
A glorious handy facial mask to hide original,
Feel of gloom, hatred, distress and torment.
Let us wear this mask when we are entitled to be happy,
All our liberties are taken care as the separation of plasma tax,
We are always dry as the bone marrow, still vital to economy,
Living in glum is far better than living in the slum.
Once in a while, when I am tired of this pretense,
I would remove it boldly to cry for the lost freedom.
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