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Like A Lotus
My eyes haven’t become glass balls
They well; when they see dolour
Of deprived churls; blood curdles
Somewhere deep from the entrails
Bursts out aloud, a painful shrill
People sneer; call me a fool
“This world you can never overhaul
Reconcile! Mingle with evil
Learn the art of survival”
These are morals from grass blades
With winds in tune they waggle
But I wish I live like lotus
Born and dwell in filthy pool
I still fight the surrounding foul
poem
by
Sathya Narayana
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