Tis the last day of year 36,
country at the crossroads; so am i,
streets of masked men,
with diseased minds and souls,
the rat race sucks us all in,
fools masquerading as intellectuals.
conformity expected by one and all,
molds and silos created, protection of comfort zones,
lies repeated over and over becomes the truth,
voices in my head, refuse to let me stand and watch,
how can one just watch life go by,
if this whats around me, an unending poem,
what is my verse...
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