The Final Thought

Only in a world of freedom can a child unfold and bloom,
For it is his birthright not to be gloomy.

He cries and says let me go away,
For he shows corrupt masses of elderly his own natural
way.

He takes a pledge to be always free,
He expresses this thought of his with lots of glee.

He breaks an object with inanimate ease,
For to do new things he has a long lease.

A smile spreads on naughty outlines of his face,
For he is living at the will of others grace.

An anxious look creeps in his large innocent eyes,
For he is existing in a world of money sucking flies.

At last he makes one final thought,
To reject the elders who gave him broth.

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