Am Not Poor My Honesty Wraps Me

GOD has made us with the same soil. Some born as poor some enrich with gold foil. No big house No luxury was on my cards of life. You the rich decorate your doorsteps with Black money lights. You wake up and touch the smooth carpet threads. Am the poor struggles for every day butter and breads. I earn money for the pieces of food as my soul says. You sold your self and put your honesty on stake everyday. You the rich burns my house and count the bunch of Lakhs. I just wait for the clock of bad times to swap. You lived the life of king and will not die with a single Rupee. I left empty handed whole life but my priceless honesty wraps me. STRONG ME