The
people young and old
They
don't look at you
They
have the handphones
Walking
blindly on the road
They
talk and whisper
Of
markets and lovers
Of
study and gossip
All
in a day's worth
They
are the easy preys
For
the robbers and thieves
Maybe
even kidnappers
They
wait in the corners
The
people young and old
The
world they think are with handphones
They
block out the surrounding
They
think they are the marchers on display
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