Heart, Bled, the cries of Sorrow,
I saw this boy, creep in burrow,
He had something in hand,
Dug from moist sand,
It wriggled and squirmed,
In his small fist, so grimed,
Down, below, in the nether
Laid his hungry, sick mother,
Could see in her eyes, Desperation,
Calling out death, to take her possession,
He gave it to her, of course to eat,
She relished on it, was it grilled meat,
Life is being sarcastic, and not me,
With sufferings comes compassion, cant you see…..
A "Sonnet" emphasising the desperation and compassion.....
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