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Trisha Apr 2018
Cry
Who tries to share,
Or help the weaker ones,
Who cares to look,
Or think of anyone.

Cry, the weaker ones,
Cry, the poor ones,
There is no one here,
To give any funds.

You starve for food,
You starve for water,
There is no one here,
To donate for any father.

Cry, the empty stomach,
Cry, a little harder,
There is no one here,
No one to bother.

I suggest you to sleep,
A deeper and more,
There is no one to awake,
Or look after your soul.

I won't stop,
I won't try,
Cry till the time,
The time till you die.
My first poem

— The End —