Friday, December 25, 2009







Treading down the street, I

Behold a child standing still

With broad eyes full of brine

He was solus and wailing loud,

Wailing to get the bread of his,

Wailing to get the milk of love,

Wailing to console, his own mind

That, there’s none to look after him

Still the world of human is blind

To the pain, of their own child.

Still the heaven is having x'mas

By burning the halcyon, days of Earth,

Howbeit we, are the best by Him,

Howbeit we, are the greatest of all,

That's not for being, human anymore

That's just because, we think of so.



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