Your Story, My Way

The Cold World

Look at the world
Now filled with hearts so cold
Birds should’ve been flying
But there are bombs firing
There is something different
In the breathing lent
Instead of the flowers
Stinking are the lifeless towers
Of dead and decaying humanity
Turning life into insanity
The small eyes who see
Tend to climb the violence tree
As it is what time has taught
And others have brought
To the innocent souls
All left is now tools
Of destruction and pain
Which has no gain
Let open your eyes
Before anymore anyone dies

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"The small ones who see, Climb the violence tree"

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Writer | Poetess| Entrepreneur| Freelancer | Workaholic | Social Worker|

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