Where I come from

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Whose fault is it, I ask
If I am insensitive
To the 20 who died in some storm
Or the 200 who died in that bomb
You see, where I come from
There die more than you can count everyday
Not from storms, floods or earthquakes
Not from bombs, bullets or such trinkets
They die from things much more  fatal
They die from love and heartbreaks
They die from hope and disappointment
They die yearning for memories old
They die fearing what Future may hold
They die from hearts that turned to stone
They die from blood that ran too cold
Whose fault is it then, I ask
If I am insensitive
Because, you see where I come from
There die more than you can count everyday
You see, where I come from
People no longer have a say
Their hearts don’t thaw
Their blood’s run stale

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