Which We are, We are Not.

We are part of the blind race,

Where there is no grace.

We follow the barren dreams,

Which never ever us to beseem.

We chose hapless passage,

Which give to our brain, airy hope massage.

We seems to be happy with artificiality,

But at no time satisfied without actuality.

Ahhh, we failed to become honest hypocrites

Regrettably we picked up uncertain traits.


Today is only one day that will never replace,

So live your life with actuality rather than Sanctimony.