Whimsical Rain
Rain, Rain! Are you pure?
Flooding lives of million poor?
Let me know one thing for sure,
Can this howling make you cure?
Since you started crying so heavily,
Rootless people dying curse-fully.
We walk on foot, we go to work,
Since you are barrier, bare plates, nothing to fork.
Oh Rain, you are romantic for lavish populace,
They make hotchpotch seeing you, to celebrate.
Aren’t we people, don’t we have mouths?
Why don’t you understand you are curse for poor and middle class?
Are you happy, causing people hunger and death?
When will you stop pouring poison as if you were a snake!
You are blessing when you pour a bit,
But become curse for your uncontrolled elegance!
We experienced hundreds of days with no water, no rain
What the hell then kept you restrained?
Why you remained silent watching the tyranny of the sun?
Couldn’t you come then to console us, every one?
Oh Rain, you are too whimsical,
The autocracy of yours turns the nature unpredictable
You witch, filthy corrupted soul,
You’d rather be called step mom, then be own.
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