A Lament On the Quality of Life

A Lament--On The Quality Of Life Those homes made of wood and mud! Mud would in winters keep cold away In shivering summers heat And wood would give them an artistic appearance The tin-roofs and fenced verandas. My mouth would water with the smell Mom often fried at school time The eggs were laid by the healthy hens We raised in our open yard. Those potatoes were hard, and had a different taste Although sliced and fried the same way. Those village- women would bear Every year or two bear-sized babies And, with ease! In the woods, fields, or orchards Or in frozen-winters at home. Similarly, Love too was true and pure When people fell not in What the letches call love,-- So effortlessly and frequently! When phones were not there nor any dating site And horses were used to ride. (people of developed nations can't relate their thoughts and feelings with the poem! But machines, artificiality, genetic engineering have deteriorated for example the taste of vegetables; and destroyed our emotions. Hope it's agreed. Thanks