Rice and potatoes every night
Wining about finances and its fright
Classy apparels swim about
As the poor man sits with a sad little pout.
Counting coins and coal for fire
It's the end of the month, situation dire
Note the dark route from hand to mouth
Aptitudes and happy rhymes go south.
Then comes a day of extreme plight
Of thin threads and scanty clothes held tight
Leisure days for some who like to splurge
Brown twisted face of a struggling urge.
Rainbows with just a single colour
Cries out loud with a morose pallor
A violent desire to end principles
The idea becomes sanguine and simple.
Out come the weapons and intent
A man made of pathos and discontent
Just one step out of good and right
A stab and a steal to end his might.
Guess who is to blame for such distress
Is it the world or a perp in stress?
Divisions so wide you can hardly see its ends
A notion of moderation is far from the mend.
Questions & Answers
© 2020 Tiyasha Maitra