Knives cut lives to believe.
Once per year just to dance.
Some hate to see one plate.
Meat is put on a neat.
And fried hens, heinz, are put.
Some foods are good
Some drinks are drinks.
Once per week, let's bounce.
In the party and to write a treaty.
To submit at the summit.
To verify and justify.
between white and black kites.

Black tea and green tea.
Black man and white man.
Some loved black
Some loved green
Some loved white
Some loved both three
In my heart, I loved both
because they are all natural.
They nurture themselves to grow
And to fulfil their dreams.
Black and white are equal.
They are all colours.
They grow young to old
And they fade and die.

Rarara is a really rare singer.
is not a rearing villager but rhymer
like a singer who eats ginger.
His tongue's tones is tunes
As he speak in the peak
The air blows the hair away.
His stanzas are free, like a bonanza.
Once you listen, you will glisten.
Once you glisten, you go on to listen.
Rarara is a really rare singer.
He sang a song soundly.
He rhymes a rhyme verbally.
His literature turns nature.
Politically and socially.
His prediction is non-fiction
Rarara is a really rare singer.

Friday, a day, and today.
Which day is best for Friday?
A Muslim's day and the best day
It is a white and beautiful day.
A Muslim's day and worship day
A gathering day and a Muslim's day
A day for good whishing, a Friday.
A praying day for worldly peace.
It is a beautiful, white day.

We are children.
We are called tomorrow's big ones.
Our lives are always better.
Awfully, in spring.
And, best in summer.
Better in the monsoon,
But we go somewhere for nourishment.
When we go to school, we are happy.
And all is well when we are with mom and dad.
And life is better when with family.
And life is good together with friends.
We are always happy.
At school or at the park
At a playground or at an amusement park.
Of course,
We are children with a strong heart.
We love to learn, and we love playing.
We want to come out of space.
Our eyes can see blue in the sky.
We want to go to the garden
and let our eyes see green.
We want to look down at sand,
and find sticks and stones.

My head fell off.
due to tension.
That left me perplexed.
Does hate turn into love?
I'd prefer it to be lower.
Rather, it turns into hatred.

I'm not going to forget these last moments.
I remember the previous several hours.
I can even recall the last several days.
I remembered last week.
I'll always remember these past few months.

I can't believe it was years ago.
despite how challenging our time together may be.
We are united in the cold and the heat.
regardless of how bad
or unpleasant our relationship is.
Whether we like it or not, we're bonded.
What, then, was the source of this hatred?
It is the outcome of a birth or marriage.

It makes no difference.
News will surface eventually.
The narrative will diverge from