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poem : Silent Exchange

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If I lose my work, no one else is ruined. Ruined are only my wife, My aged mother , my old father, and my infant child. And yet , I rush to rallies, even at the cost of my own work, so that some 'special ' one may not face destruction. But I do not think , not even once ---- if I do not go, then he himself will come rushing To save my work.

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