How so marvel the social line is,—
That we cherish in spurious bliss;
Neither name nor address is real,
And is different from what we feel.
False friendship and showy love,
Are being done without resolve;
The people around aren’t on mind,
To the unknown, we try to be kind.
One is blocked and added another,
Is it that we call friends forever;
One’s badly broken, and one’s glad,
Feelings for both are happy and sad.
In search of joys, we ever get pain,
And life is never the same again;
Look for the heart, instead of skin,
If it is loyal and innocent within.
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