No one knows what his next door does
Trust, a mere story, hectic appearance
For bread and butter I think this fuss
Money, matter, you no eat golden rice
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MY LOVE FOR KATHMANDU
Just two meals a day is what one needs
Identity disguised for so called supremacy
What one takes nothing as days are done?
Truth, bitter, but fraught sky rocketing wish
This and that, yours and mine, ever growing
Demand, does not let you breath in reprieve
Destined to subsist till the doom approaches
The universe is unfathomable, the final truth.
