Nothing is new
The selfish world
Ensures that the drama
Is perfectly played.
Calling others killer
Is their game.
Strangely they make
Various claims
But run for life
In the face of calamity.
The hypocritical people
Sit and judge others,
While their own cabinet
Is filled with skeletons.
They can't believe anyone
And torture others
Abusing and shunting
All people as if they own them.
At these miserable moments
I feel so desolate
And try to search
For inner peace
But alas all I hear
Is screams and screeches
From the laureates
Claiming their claims
By Binita Jha
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