In a discussion with some of my secondary school mates, I got inspired to write this poem.
This poem is totally my view about the need for inequity in life.
Everybody don’t has to accept my view, but appreciate it.

Life devoid in impartiality.

Blood is to vain what conflict is to prosperity.
Quality is the word when inequality salts the city.
Diverse opinion pins to perfect unity.

Dumb in mind;
Low is the head;
stagnant is the word without envy and struggle.
What is history in immemorial same angle?


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