Rhyme timE
Shattered dreams

London is a beautiful city of peace and love,

Quiet and silent in blue morning like a white dove.

And suddenly a chain of terrorist attacks,

Which took many a life that will never come back.

Blasts were as many as seven,

How can they destroy this beautiful heaven.

Everyone was in shock,

Waiting for the blasts to come to a stop,

Innocent people were not involved in any matter,

Then why did their dreams shatter.

Indians are most tactful, I’d say,

Turning everything into a dustbin, is their way.

Throwing waste here or keeping it there,

Nothing bothers them anyway,

For they are intrepid people,

What have they to fear.

There is no space for cows in cowshed,

Our condition is worse than that of bugs in beds.

We all play a role in it,

Can we not put an end to it

Life is a dream,

A boat going up and down the stream.

Life has its tumbles,

Blunders and troubles and bumbles.

Life is made of paints,

Red, blue, yellow,

Put in there by saints.

Life is a game of chess

Played by life and Death