Little ers
there is no one this poet hate more than
those little ers with power in their hand
who would do nothing but sit back and watch
as the world continues to burn in the fire
there is no one this poet hate more than
those little ers with hands full of money
who sold their soul to build the empires
that run on the back of the poorest
there is no one this poet hate more than
those little ers who have everything
but choose the silence as a way to escape
while the planet continues to cry out for help
Copyright © Maanvinder Pilania | Year Posted 2025
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