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The Spirit of Life


This is a poem I wrote in my childhood days. I tried to express the curiosity I had on those days...

Plants, flowers and its colours

who have painted it?

who have created it?

Human says 'its natural';

but if we think deep,

we will find it logical..

But who are we?

For what we are living?

Without any reason, in a generation-

Don't question it

because you won't get any answer!

Rivers, hills, oceans and seas;

All those are nature's gifts..

But what about everyday's-

noise and pollution?

It's nothing but man's own creation..

What will we name all those

in which we live?

in which we stay?

It's just the 'spirit of life'

but- only in my own way!

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