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The Complaint

                                                    Picture from Pinterest.


O lord, the heat on days of summer are loud 

The cool on winter are, a cruel and brutal proud 

The naked trees on autumn are on oldest occupation 

Where the spring just gives it lovely perfumes 

Still these humanity, don't bow the loving seasons 

Humans just complain what does prevailed


Lovely the lady, more is she needed for her beauty

 Besides her earthly defects and bruises are bounty 

Never would everyone confess the rude truths ever 

Just they say, it was with which they are brought 

Which every creature downloads the goodness not really 

Whilst, don't they think the precious nature always real

Oh!!! My lord, save the fool from lots of dying pool


A complaint origin with roots of want and went for lovely wool 

A complain is plain that born from complaint itself 

Those complaints shall feel the paradox of heaven to hell 

Just as they does, the doer complaint again to gain nothing 

But a thousand precious poison thoughts to do again


Thank you (Karma)


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