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Criticism

1 vote, average: 3.00 out of 51 vote, average: 3.00 out of 51 vote, average: 3.00 out of 51 vote, average: 3.00 out of 51 vote, average: 3.00 out of 5
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English Poetry

Moonlight doing tricks for me,
i’m swaying to the song,
the mob was rushing,
a circus in my head,
and a stampede in my stead,
plagiarized is what they say,
no way…

Time is sponge,
absorbs it all,
i will never have an interview with the devil,
criticism is peeping blood in my veins…

I breathe harder,
the oxygen is an enemy,
this face is an illusion,
desperate times in derision,
criticism ,
it decays me in….

The boy who cried,
and the dream that died,
the fluid injected,
rhapsodize in space,
pulling gravity away,
death arrives for the funeral of a friend,
criticism eats him away,
churns the pages of history,
and scorches the day….

Somewhere around the corner,
a woman cries,
looking for tatters and a material life,
masculinity and another one left,
her body soul carry another debt,
to whom shall she complain,
critics lead her to the window pane,
out she leaps,
into the effervescent space,
the temple bells,
toll a little softer today…
criticism eats time away….

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