What's the value of this life,
where innocence cries for justice,
Where piles of lie make a heap,
and truth is covered by ill-practice?
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Good poem. The world is encircled with lies. But the remnants with integrity remain steadfast for lies will not last for ever
Nay, never it is so. The level of optimism the most tortured among the underdogs has ever shown should change your policy. The real value of living lies in being genuine to ourselves first.If so, how can you say that he is living well? Is it a life indeed?