A Machine Poem by Prativa Dey

A Machine



I'm a minister, you're a machine I'm a machinist, like I run That's it. Say it as you say. This is your understanding. Gun tantra machines are special, they are either working, We are machines for you You go like you have a mantra, Gan Tantra and Praja Tantra One become machine.
He broke his leg and started to beg. Otherwise, helpless Continues, where does one exist. So life and country over the plunder. Gon Tantra franchise  Life takes over This is a formula, if you think cotton. Where is the root? The leaf on the top. This is a game of politics In the game room of life.

Friday, November 1, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: thought
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Prativa Dey

Prativa Dey

Lindungi, India.
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