Plates, Pots and Robots
And there is this nation where
Some women write autobiographies
Of disposable plates;
Used and thrown by manless men.
And another few write that of
Naked golden pots;
Unknown of the value possessed.
And the last set of this gender
Lead a calm and quiet life
At the beck and call of their men;
Like a typical robot.
None to blame,
Not even the 'honourable' government
For they have indeed Lady legends
To name and prove
The nation isn't genetically 'weak'.
(The men with good hearts forgive me
For you aren't referred in here.)
God speed the nation!
The Disguised Fox
And then there is this nation where
Politics is a profession,
More like a business for some.
Wonder if they have golden graves!
Corruptions, scandals and scams;
"Oh no! Cooked up stories by opposition"
Today they rule, tomorrow they oppose
And the rich are richer,
The poor are poorer.
Had they called it a service,
Things wouldn't have been this worse.
God speed the nation!
Everything is business
Politics is centre-theme for media.
Like silly infatuations of a teenager,
They run behind some issues
And leave it at the sight
Of a charmer one.
After all, in a world ruled by money,
Everything is a business;
Whether it be to feed someone,
To educate, to health care
Or even to serve one's parents.
God speed the nation!
