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This piece of composition is in the praise of Barack Hussain Obama newly elected president of U.S.A.; the present time calls forth Barack Hussain Obama for greater courage and precision to face the challenges to fetch out hum
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(Written During The American Attacks On Afghanistan From The Arabian Sea) / / O! The heartless callous warriors, / The children of the crowning age, / You do not see the havoc, / For you stand at the distant sp
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When there is no one around me, I peep out through the window,
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Uninvited frequent gluttonous guest, Visited and picked up one by one,
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Often when after the hours of noon, We were set free from the school,
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The children while playing marbles began to fight; their parents came out, they grappled, plucked beards, tore clothes and bled one another
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At one wintry night, in the street light, beside a pole, an old-man in rags sold oranges at half price but no buyer approached that night.
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In the cold wintry evening, br
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In the cold wintry evening, br
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When I was a quite lad, br
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When I was a quite lad, br
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On listening to the measured sound, br
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Remembering of the dreamy age, br
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I was beaten with a stick, br
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When I was mischievous and playful, br
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Youth time dream like slipped away,
Sweet scented memories still lay,
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Who sorts out scraps of sustenance,
Bending upon the hump of smelly trash,
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One rainy morning in the month of August,
To collect the scattered scraps of sustenance,
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The gushing blows of the future wind,
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A dormant volcanic eruption,
When bursts, bursts with quakes,
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More significant than the rise and fall,
More important than the historic events,
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These floating dots,
Of the golden stars,
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Seek devices other than,
Bullets and bombs,
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Was this the face upon which, Beautified innocence danced and danced?
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How sometimes strange demands emerge,
In the curious mind, and heart urges,
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Blending bitter and sweet memories,
The fleeting moments pass quickly,
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The guests of night secretly come,
Riding upon the wings of subtle air,
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A physician that relives,
Pangs of all maladies,
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O! Little Bees,
You are regarded,
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When at late hours,
The dark night wanes,
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The added wisdom with the scornful use,
Will add more to the human miseries.
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I bother not who regards me,
A split being or a psycho-case,
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I claim not, fair or unfair,
But tell you, what I did see,
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It is sweet madness, insanity,
Or something else?
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O! Love, love, dear love,
I thank thee to awaken me;
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