Ego-centric they may seem to be
Clocking their thoughts in weird memories,
Clasping life between the palms
Enormously strange they remain.
Not easily decipherable by any
They are the misunderstood lot,
Randomly moving amidst the people
Ingenuously they bare their souls
Crying for nothing but love and care.
Interestingly they are around
To show us the ultimate truth
You and I breathe the same air like them.
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