The birds are tweeting but Seems as silent on the nebula day. The shining sun and brightening sky Look as a murky ways. The morning is of sorrow, At the tea-stall and on a turning point Men and women are dis cussing about the catastrophe. The young boy of six and twenty Had full of religious faith; The developing boy of his family Was working at the age of fourteen, But He perished on the march of eighteen. The newly married boy has no more life Who leaved his gorgeous wife And also the three months infant boy in her lap The white devil squeezes Him with jab. Just before the festive of Holi Disappeared the elder son of his family . He had no fortune to insist holi with his family and spouse. The starve boy was coming from his shop To home but had not fate for caddy. The white Bolero with a drunken cabby Made an unforgettable calamity. The police is showing as negligence With corrupted smell of essence .
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Showing posts from June, 2014