by Harmanjot Kaur
Sans there anyone,
I've never met without a selfish aim.
Wonder what they want to claim?
Was it me who was mad?
Or 'tis for namesakes approvals,
From professors to librarians,
And the friends and foes,
All of them will someday come and go.
I bewilder in the lap of poetry,
Hiding deep cut stabs,
Had now grown me into a tree,
Were there some clenches in those crabs?
Sans the connections and a deep sense of who,
We pretend who we haven't been.
Hiding from their own silence,
Deep into the arms of nature and friends.
Is there some time where you would actually find real 'Me'?
Sans there anyone, with a wave of mental peace.
Who could get what and who are these?
The part of being an actor,
Are we just the puppets of the Jeez!
When already destined with what you will have,
Why is there greed and misdeed?
Why is there mischief and deceit in the collab?
And why can't we just rest and breathe in peace?
Should it be called the revolution of science or the menace?
We now become closer, yet shallow and far apart.
Narcissism, sociopathy and manipulation,
Or would you carry all the materials with you in the grave?
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