Peace Talks
They sling mud balls at each other and spat
Sitting respectively in their countries
One day they say, “let us resolve disputes”
And meet in his or his palace to chat
Their wives, their kids, their seats, their fates and none
Of their countries, their men and boundaries
And bid adieu over a glass of wine
To soon declare, they made a good headway
And meet again this time in Champaign fair
They meet, they talk, they laugh and part for zilch
The border line remains like (a) bleeding weal
With both the sides aflame with ire and fright
The price at last is paid by populace
But peace remains as ever in pieces
poem by Sathya Narayana
Added by Poetry Lover
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