Growing up on the streets of the Capital, With just little coins to break that fast, And to full the belly at supper, We have no worries, Gathering few woods, And a number of papers, We erect a structure, For shelter, We will work and live there, With our children, Till they inherit it, And pass it on to their grandchildren, We don't make wills, There's nothing to inherit, It's just a routine, We will live there, Till death knocks on our doors, With his icy hands, We will live there, Religion has taught us, respect, Humility and humbleness, But hardship has taught us otherwise, After several talks and thoughts, Agreeing to disagree, And disagreeing to agree, In hot, tempers and no free will, We will leave, We are not cursed, Nonetheless, we seem far from blessed, We would build mansions, If we were fortunate, Plus drive to classy functions, If we were fortunate, But this is our plight, We will vacate our wooden mansions, Crush them to the ground, Reduce them to nothing, No need to worry about the demolition, They are as good as the ground, I heard you say, You wish you weren't part of this exercise, But you don't have a choice, It is unfortunate you couldn't say no, No! You couldn't say no to the papers, the papers that has collapsed your power and free will, I understand, Life is all about starting from scratch, But please tell us, Where do we begin?
#inkInvasion
Source:seebgh.blogspot.com
