compose a short english poem
anuragnaskar379:
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You waste the attention of your eyes,
the glittering labour of your hands,
and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves
of which you'll taste not a morsel;
you are free to slave for others--
you are free to make the rich richer.
The moment you're born
they plant around you
mills that grind lies
lies to last you a lifetime.
You keep thinking in your great freedom
a finger on your temple
free to have a free conscience.
Your head bent as if half-cut from the nape,
your arms long, hanging,
your saunter about in your great freedom:
you're free
with the freedom of being unemployed.
You love your country
as the nearest, most precious thing to you.
But one day, for example,
they may endorse it over to America,
and you, too, with your great freedom--
you have the freedom to become an air-base.
You may proclaim that one must live
not as a tool, a number or a link
but as a human being--
then at once they handcuff your wrists.
You are free to be arrested, imprisoned
and even hanged.
There's neither an iron, wooden
nor a tulle curtain
in your life;
there's no need to choose freedom:
you are free.
But this kind of freedom
is a sad affair under the stars.
#PlzMarkMeAsBrainliest
the glittering labour of your hands,
and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves
of which you'll taste not a morsel;
you are free to slave for others--
you are free to make the rich richer.
The moment you're born
they plant around you
mills that grind lies
lies to last you a lifetime.
You keep thinking in your great freedom
a finger on your temple
free to have a free conscience.
Your head bent as if half-cut from the nape,
your arms long, hanging,
your saunter about in your great freedom:
you're free
with the freedom of being unemployed.
You love your country
as the nearest, most precious thing to you.
But one day, for example,
they may endorse it over to America,
and you, too, with your great freedom--
you have the freedom to become an air-base.
You may proclaim that one must live
not as a tool, a number or a link
but as a human being--
then at once they handcuff your wrists.
You are free to be arrested, imprisoned
and even hanged.
There's neither an iron, wooden
nor a tulle curtain
in your life;
there's no need to choose freedom:
you are free.
But this kind of freedom
is a sad affair under the stars.
#PlzMarkMeAsBrainliest
Answered by
4
A boy named mikel,
he loves his cycle,,
he eats his paste,
according to his taste,,
fills his stomach with mangoes,
the beauty mango park where he goes,,
he seems to be always dead,
before going to his lovely bed.
hope it helps!
please mark me as brainliest!!
he loves his cycle,,
he eats his paste,
according to his taste,,
fills his stomach with mangoes,
the beauty mango park where he goes,,
he seems to be always dead,
before going to his lovely bed.
hope it helps!
please mark me as brainliest!!
The palms that rocked the cradle,
the arms that gave me rest,
the one who pushed the paddle,
and wished me all the best.
The slopes that pulled me down,
had me in bruises, red and brown.
A gentle pat on my back,
was all that I needed to be on track.
Doing things on my own,
taking a shot at the unknown,
a push, a nudge every way,
makes every day a Father’s Day.
- Nisha Pai
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