To you,
Who calls yourself civilized,
To have moved from hunting for food,
Now working for it;
I wish you think on it again.
To you,
Whose success is measured
According to the number of figures,
That your bank balance holds;
I wish you hold on to better things.
To you,
For whom to love and hate doesn’t take time
When caste and creed takes an upper hand.
We all bleed red when cut.
I wish you remember we’re humans after all.
To you,
Whose roots search new adaptations,
Without being able to live a good life
Where ever you are planted;
I wish you never fool yourself.
To you,
Who expects his death every minute.
But never wanna stop building mansions,
All you need is six feet land;
I wish you remind yourself that.
