Yawning Gulf

I stood on the tip of the top of the cliff and looked down, Though valleys seemed colorful, scenes deep down were grey and brown; A few freshwater streams were springing from filmy fountains, Lo, why these ants-colonies roam on the Rocky Mountains; The entire landscape looked like a huge monster's mouth yawning, Are these sounds and noises around foretelling some warning...? This scene of the yawning of the cliff valley of nature, Reflected, like a mirror, the rich-poor caricature; Dining on Ayan Black Chicken, Wagyu beef, Kopi Luwak, Iberian ham, Moose cheese, Black watermelon, Blue Duck... Wearing clothes of velvet and silk weaved for them alone, Adorned with gold, gems, and diamonds - the rich have their zone...! Does even the Public Distribution System assist? Each hungry moment of the poor has an ironic twist. Stories of humans eating grass, lacking food, lo, pity! Malnourished, lacking jobs, many poor beg in each city; Fawn-colored messy clothes - only rags they can afford, Having no house they sleep, like dogs, on footpaths of the road...! Systems and States, like ladders, aid and abet the wealthy, To grow, progress and develop through ways, often, stealthy; Schemes and plans and strategies for the poorest are plenty, Yet, in reality, do the poor get any penny? Gulf betwixt the rich and poor, like cliff and dry land cleaves say: Fraternal love of caring and sharing is the true way...!!!