by Atul Chandra Sarkar
The sun shall rise and set,
The rains shall come and go,
The storms rise and pass away,
Time shall stealthily tip- toe.
Friends shall become relatives,
Some friends shall become foe,
Some enemies shall be friends,
Some relatives we may never know.
Bricks shall make homes,
And twigs make up the nest,
But in the end all the clay toys
Shall be lost in the earthy breast.
What difference does it really make,
Whether you ride a vehicle or shoulders four,
What difference does it make if no one cries,
What difference does it make when I am no more.
The world is an inn,
Where one makes place for another,
Souls in dresses come and go,
None is related to the other.
Last updated March 17, 2015