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Taken from my collection 'Lines'.


People traipse like two rails of a track,

Side by side and

Visible to the eye,

But blind to the touch.


We’re made of different hues,

Each organic, but so hard to fuse.

The pliable soils of a land

Bear the weight of a ruling hand.


Man builds margins

And the other man waits in line.

He scars a race with lashed backs and genocide,

And the shape of terrain worldwide.

© 2015 By Pria Rai. Proudly created with Wix.com