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The Hanging


And he hangs there alone, quiet on the tree,
looking down at the world,unlike them he’s free.

The world unfair, the truth cruel,
the wise depsicable and the fool unreal.

The wise they gather,beneath the guilty tree,
a coward,they call him, guilty on decree.
Gave up on the world, failed in his life,

should have fought and won against the pain and strife.

Now its the fools, who gather beneath the tree,
poor soul, they call him, tortured third degree.
We feel your pain, they treat us thus too,
at least you had the courage, to do what you had to do.

I see the whole thing, from my seat far beyond,
Hate the people, as gossip spreads around.
As they take down the man, I strain to see,
I see a face familiar, a face thats me.

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I am a nobody. In the Matrix, I am a software engineer, struggling to survive in the race to nowhere. I lead a normal happily married life, full of the usual hope and apprehensions. I worry about small things, I crib about low wages, I hate the politicians and their policies and wish I had a better life. Outside the Matrix, however, it is a different story. I put on my earphones, cut myself away from the fake world and let my fingers take me to a world of dreams and fantasy. I do not complain here, in this world of words and puntuations. I find divinty with the Almighty when I write.I write about life, my experiences, my hopes, my wishes and some stuff not at all related to me. And music is the blue pill which takes me out of this everyday life. It is the Bodhi Tree under which I stand enlightened. So this then is my world. I can also be found at: http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/


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