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Endless Journey Beyond


Paradigm
Dreamers dream of great futures,
Hungry eyes long for a meal
Don’t know how I should feel,
Should I give them bright future or good nurture?
This is the question at the end of the tunnel
Waiting for me to say now it is my time to feel the hell
Why should the dreams of deprived yo uth suffer
At the hands of their fate,
Fate that had them born in a family,
Wondering when was the last meal they ate.
Reeling along a thin line that separates poor from absolute poor,
Ones who suffer at the helm of political instability
When I went to see what they had,
What they ate and what they wore,
I saw they ate what we eat
But only if their farms quench their thirst
Sitting under the clouds that roar,
And then pour down with thunderous burst.
Their youth leave in search of hope
Hope beyond the usual wait of the rain
Smearing boon of crop and vegetable
 
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