The Bait

A part of the crowd

They say I’m too proud

What they say is loud

Eyes weeping like a cloud

.

Whole my being is crushed

Condolences are mushed

Their words may be hushed

My ears feel them rushed

.

Peace will be my mate

Better soon than late

This storm will be my fate

Don’t wanna be its bait

(Abeerah Biaji Mehreen)
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