A being alike me, Enduring this planet at some point. Paying no heed to any coin, Neglecting every drop of fall it voids. Visualising how layman changes it's deportment, Without wondering his sown seeds of demolition. Where his left over deeds will leave him, At a point where he thinks society will feed him. But at that epoch no one would feel him, His own loved ones would only pretend to hold him. When his own will refuse to accept it, Then how prolong society will accept him. At that point no piece of paper would work, No status and earnings had their names in it. What remains is only his voice of deeds, That will only speak after his left over corpse. That had no one to look and honour his last farewell, That will note his fortune of hell and heaven. Taking breath of generosity, And no cupidity for leftover holdings. Will never had a place for me, And only a kind voice will fill my wound so deep. What left is only healed scars, That will never ever fade away with ease. OPEN FOR COLLAB✨ #ATnobodyunderstandsme • A Challenge by Aesthetic Thoughts! ✨ Collab with your soulful words.✨ • Must use hashtag: #aestheticthoughts • Please maintain the aesthetics.
