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The Glass



From inside the window,

I see heaps of dump

The train goes smoothly

while their lives on bump.

Amidst the morass

The contrast surpass

Life is made a farce

Just by the difference of a glass.


The cooled compartments

contradict with the burning sun

While we travel the world

They are in their homes shunned.

Just wilderness and rocks

I see about

sitting on the furry cushion

when I look out

as they meet their fate

at an impasse

When their lives are made a farce

Just by the difference of a glass.


I find it hard

to appreciate the food

when all they have is

fruits in the woods

I amass the blankets

As I feel cold

but all they have

is a bare cloth fold.

Even that is scarce

In this ungrateful world.

Alas!

Where lives are made a farce

Just by the difference of a glass.


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