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The World

written by: Arnit Dey



I once sat down on the cold hard grass,
And longed for the earth to be clean,
Once which was a feast for the eyes,
Is now a planet of solitude,
Heaven became hell.

Oh how the river sparkled they say,
But every moment now,
It seems to be crying floods,
For we squeeze the earth like a lemon.

Once which had endless supplies,
Now all wonder what we have become,
Our purpose slips past us,
Just because of that paper.

Arnit Dey

Arnit Dey

I am a ten year old and a poet and writer
Arnit Dey

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