Poetry

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I keep staring at the corner
Wondering where it has all gone
The sights
The sounds
The rights and all
All lumped
Everything seems so small

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Peering through an open window...'cross time and history,
I saw a hint of glory past- a fresh simplicity.
Over there... behold, a mother bent humbly on her knees
Praying for her family's care and other earnest pleas
Then, a scene did catch my gaze which stirred me from within
A pauper...lame, did put his all into a blind man's tin

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Prosaic mundanity of a changing time`s span bleary
With nestling nothingness encrouching my soul with bleak
Of elusive success distant from grasp like a star in the sky
Conceit in arrogant egoistic trait of impertinent snideful smirk.

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I shall succeed much to the dismay of loathsome peers
Surmounting to the surmit atopping the helm with suave finesse,
Galloping in full steed winning and not yet resting on my laurels
Creating a new watershed for success shining like a beacon on a shore.

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All my tomorrows are expunged with brittle essays
Valiant with endeavours petitioning fruition to come to the fold
With each rising morrow brooding new vain overtures
To sail this ship away from the torpedo seeking it`s own end.