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Peace Is Everywhere

Starless sky is my blanket,
when I sit in my roof top garden.
Still trees are my escorts,
Hiding me from shine, rain and intruders.
Flying airplanes with flicking lights,
yellow lamps at the streets,
red lights at the tip of high rises,
are for my visual pleasure.
Quiet neighborhood with barking dogs,
Clean roads with bustling vehicles,
Security guards calling one another,
while the bosses dipped themselves,
in air con noise and imported comforters.
How peaceful this place is,
when people have their rest.

Caged apartment and fumed air,
Down on the road, should I call it road? ,
Beside the weather and human ridden paths,
knee deep clogged ditches,
Men sleep in fetal position,
picturesque mosque are everywhere,
garbage collected using hands,
demand of men and screaming of women,
Yawning and shaking of beds,
Rickety trucks are on the roads,
Those rickshaws become their homes.
The men, thinking of wives at villages,
playing with their toys,
How peaceful this place is,
when people have their rest.

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