Loaded with a sense of separation,
Their face gets droplets of awe palpable;
And when resides a thought of union,
They dread denials of being responsible.
They can't pace themselves with youths running blind
For 'fads of fancy' in the luring broadway -
Tools and tenets left far 'way behind,
They fade into the race with frantic headway.
Impulses do explode the youngs in torrent -
The winning force's a deviating onrush;
Have fledglings of freedom independent
Of feathers of wisdom flown ever glorious?
The gap does go yet wider as to snap
And youths are fear'd back into savage trap !
- N. P. SAMAL
Nice poem sir
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