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No more wars. Live beautifully.
Can you hear my voice when I claim for help?
Is it too delicate?
Like the leave that falls from that tree standing in the middle of a battle
Pretending it’s a warrior, pretending it has the power to protect the world from a disaster.
All of these issues taking power of our hearts pushing us apart from each other.
Who can we blame?. Should we blame ourselves?
Or the person who seeded that tree in the middle of a catastrophe.
That person who thought the tree would be hope to heal our hearts and souls.
But still, can you hear my voice claiming for help? Because I am starting to think that I am the leave because no one can hear me.
They are just trying to solve the issue. Not trying to hear me.
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So many wars, so many tears but poetry can save us from another catastrophe.