The rustling leaves call me
the lashing rains hail me
the fierce wind carry me
the burning sun tan me
the human scorn kills me.
That way we be inhuman
None can destroy the other
going about in great vigour
leads to a destruction seemingly a derail
the rightful one losing entirely
the wrong-doer making merry over his catch unlawful
which all go about for a period short and temporary
but as days get ahead in enormous speed
there arises an apparent deficit and downfall
not in the side of the loser as it might look indeed
but highly in the edges of the malignant call
as the evil doer fails miserably
while his wrongly acquired wealth
disappears all of a sudden unbelievably
while we turn around and see over the bridge
we find the rightful owner happy and content
with what little he has which is a blessing for sure.
With the day breaking into a morn
the sun came up and shone
making the world glow
as the movements got into a flow
with a rush and a push all over
the sound and bound in a hover
a clamber there and a clamour here
the world gets busy and noisy to hear
meantime the sun rises up to the top
sending a significant warmth atop
the world tuning weary and tired
with its inhabitants getting fired
both by their heads and the sun
there being a desire for fun
which sets in with the sun going down
while the evening gets across
and the world gets back the loss
indulging in fun and mirth getting deep
till they go back to slumber and sleep.
The morning looks dull
with people not seen about
nothing happens in full
as there is none going out.
What be the cause I wonder
I could infer nothing so far
as I think about in a ponder
I trace nothing great ajar.
It might be a holiday, I conclude
holidays are spent not at home I know
as people go over with a schedule
visiting places with glee in a row.
What else would it be? I think aloud
while my son sits facing me with a tease
What is your botheration now? he talks loud
Keep going not thinking of things in pieces.
Telling him of my deliberation straight
he unable to control his laughter
holds my hand and says with words right
you have other things to care about now and after.
Still my mind persists on its thought
wanting to know why the day is lifeless
my son reaches me with a plot