Though most of the people will go to hell
Yet they will not listen to me
Or will they read my poems
Yet they pose here, as if, they the staunch lover of truth
In reality they are not, they all bluff
The reason is that when I start to say them the truth
They either run away accusing me that I am telling lies
Or resort to ugly debate
Or engage against me with sick arguments
I am sorry to say
Such is the sordid state
Of the affairs of mankind’s unfortunate fate.
Sordid State
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