In the middle of the street
In the newest of town
Folded my newspaper off.
of different origin
With different language
And with different sense of signs.
Sigh to world it is.
Certain fall of old lady on arc of the road.
Cars stopped ,
some looking Doctor,
Some helping her to stand by,
Some rushed to bring water
And to all of them she gives her wellness smile.
Shoulders to reside,
She accompanied by some to home.
All in those strangers to each other
talked a language known.
‘HUMANITY’ is our language,
Humans should be just by which we should be known.
With this thought on that street,
That paper I made unfold.
Minutes before I did not know them,
Now I know they were all my own…
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