We both are like dumbs
Isn't it?
I see the red ants around you
in a friendly manner
And the handsome poverty
tries to be friend with me.
You have no right to ask
Why the tree bring you down?
And I cannot grumble
Why can't I fly?
My palm and your gloomy face
Give much similarities,
Scattered lines here and there
But the wealth line has disappeared
On my palm a long time ago.
I remember once an old palm reader
Predicted in the broad day light
' This crooked line says that one day
You become a pilot or a road runner! '
The old man is right as I fly on