Friday, January 4, 2008


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,…
Pessimistically optimistic,
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!

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