The poem
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These innocent children Their days are playing days
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They should be too naive to make a difference Between pleasure and distress
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The same innocent children In the combat zone to win theri happiness
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Warring against the sorrows No one pay attention on their miseries
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The whole society seems to them A dumb and mute show
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None can feed them a daily bread They are sick of begging perhaps
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And searching their fortune on trash heap Insteasd of books in hand junk sack the keep
Submitted by Anjum Aziz Abbas
