Bloke

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One fine day,
God thought of playing with clay,
He ended up creating a creature
With inappropriate measure.
Two pair of eyes, and ears,
Hardly  they have patience,
Nor they know how to bear.
He created them with purity,
But put a little less immaturity.
God gifted them Eve,
Why do they deceive?
Don’t they know it hurts?
Those claws those cuts!
They unveil,
Turn us pale.
Our heart bleeds,
Our eyes plead.
Still then we dream of bloke,
Who can kill us, provide choke.
Few are kind,
Few are blind.
Few are insecure fathers,
Few are considered brothers.

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Hello reader! I am Arfia currently a student of architecture. Portraying everything from my view is all I love to do. I am someone who speaks less or very limited words. I think, re think then overthink, almost about everything. I just hope you enjoy my arrangement of words, and feel them. Hope this medium convey the messages i want to deliver to every mind.

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