The Poor Farmer

It is unseasonal,
rains come when
they ought not to.

The ready to harvest
crops lie soaked
in water.

Unable to bear
the weight they
droop and fall.

The farmer sighs
money lost, toil
wasted. loans mount.

The long stretches
of his fields held
promising yield,

the day before.
seeing them lying
in waters,

makes his hear break,
wiping his tears, he
walks slowly.

His legs wobble
losing his balance
he slips unconscious.


By meenas17

A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood

One reply on “The Poor Farmer”

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