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IN THE MIND OF MOMENT
all sit tight low bend and divided
aged grade men and women
sit with one buttock side
with hands lay on side face
as the other had bared,eaten
by languishing agitating puzzling of modern stool
their heads look on look like
loosening palm tree
the women sat roughly with untighten wrapper
and their half-body attracts to lovely sun scotching
their beautiful gaments are inferior
to burn down the evening sad
men on their side sighten under the
bushy fence of mouth's hairs
their grey beards hoard the dusts and dirties,still
it was stone age as their hands still on the arms
head still on the neck,eyes still on the face
instead all should lay on pant ground
young citizens cry aloud like snake sighter
for the falling of the rain
as the bucket tenders before its heaviness,unfull
why is it rain that can't ruin?
would the blank tree shade the millions?
the middle ageds lie flat on stomach
in the junction
of the nation
crackling palm kernels on kneel,found no cakes
though no pain exerted from volume of prosterity
as they cracks and the spoilage particles hatch out
the smile fade away their face
each and each they move away the faze
still,till the biennial years walk out
they wait to toil and cultivate the land
but they are not ready to plants
as they fear rodents and dares
the soil would be fertiled,if free year had't claimed
the funky chastity had vanished
and loosening while searching the transquility farnished
as selfish intersts and money mongers caucus
holding in mist of useless calibres and chimbers
they thrift
thy thieft
they gain
they chain
our futures are naked
our future like bare soul dying with red colour
no leaves to put together to sew cloth to cover
our backs torture by political whip
no litigants to forcast our case
and interprete our mind say
our body laid on the entrance of empty
no tongue to drink our cunning blood
