Like newspaper clippings pasted
Into a graffiti,
Silhouettes of past, dimmed
In the foreground of now-a-days
The cries for peace are muffled in the din,…
Yet the sighs go on.
The utopian dream is a nightmare
Snatching everybody’s sleep
In the middle of the night
Still I wake up late ….
The morning news tells
How many died yesterday!