Poetry

We only secure our own lives..
Without thinking and taking care of others..

We only built the bridges of happiness for our own selves..
Left others behind the walls of difficulties..
Buried them deep under an avalanche of sorrows..

We live and make our own world..
Where only we and few who are around us are happy..
Rest are like misguided and lost travellers who are searching their way to happiness and inner-peace.. 

They are broken and shattered from inside..
But still standing tall like trees and providing shelter to others..