Shiney, flashy faces
with dangling, fleshy asses
They flaunt the tag of brand
tight jeans, exposed cleavage meet the demand
dull, dead eyes
racing to grave with silent cries
They flaunt the lies of life
recluse, on deeds they just remorse, they grief.
This is written on the context of the shiny-car-driving, kala chasma clad we-the-rich-with-extra-pounds-to-show people roaming in the glass malls.
Truly
Abinash
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