I am failing to say

what I really want

I’ve tried poems and verses

but none’s their to chant

what must I do

with my stories and proses

all they see are the thorns

not the lovely roses.

They don’t understand the picture

in which we all are

we are the same ,with different poses

some standing here, other’s running afar.

As we travel along

the deserts turn breezy

mountains that appeared tough

begin to look easy.

But only if they let me say

listened to what I say

It’s a jungle and if not a predator

they you are a prey.

So take every step with caution

if you want to stay

it’s a cruel and vicious world

that’s all I meant to  say.


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