In the hustle and bustle of the city, I lost my sanity. Everywhere I turned, men moved like machines, gears grinding in a race to reach the top. Achievements piled high, yet faces grew hollow. I paused, wondering—where was the time for things we truly cherish? Perhaps buried beneath deadlines and desires, or tucked away in the dusty corners of the mind, saved for a “later” that never comes. As the city roared around me, I realized the cruel truth: in chasing everything, we risk losing ourselves. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the greatest loss of all.
Ray of light far from sight All his need is a caring feed A place to sleep, a blanket to keep - the despodent waif Warm and safe Cruel men see the poor one plead, Emptiness filled hearts hesitant to share a part. On the pavement's corner sits this lad a bit. Weak and pale telling his tale None hear Do they feign fear? Hoping - is all he could do for some fresh hot stew Every passer-by down the lane Ignore this guy and all his pain Why is this scene not wiping off my brain Serene it Remains Revives time and again As I sit by the window of the train.
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