a poem by GURTEG SINGH SAINI, India

The gain of the pain was not worth it, my body got cut, bit by bit.
Soft words & raw weapons went side by side, who to tell, who to chide.
I walked on thorns throughout my life, every step was on a knife.
Nobody is a friend, the realization comes; I am holding flowers & you are holding guns.
Fie on you in the name of the Master,
You are now heading for disaster.

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