Kaleidoscope

One of my uncles who gave this handy toy
when I cried for moon.
I rotated the tube then contained colored fragments
reflected and produced the changing patterns of life!
The bygone day's life is so colorful.
But nowadays it's a tragedy and a catastrophe.
The young generation who addicted for narcotic drugs
and they see the multicolored mysterious world.
They live for a while and disappear.
The responsible authorities in continuous drumming
but unable to stop the peril.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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