The fingers pointing increase in number,
The yelling shakes the slumber.

It disturbs the calm beneath,
And brings with it questions umpteenth.

I am made to introspect,
To put the broken things correct.

I am made to wonder,
Is everything within asunder.

When the doubts shudder the belief,
Hoping it may all not turn out to be grief.

Even then u hear the whisper somewhere inside,
Saying Time will help to get over the tide.

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