Of some well crafted aesthetic gains
The subjects are the unproud heirs
Unabshedly inheriting the legacy of burdens
The burdens of destitution
A destination no less than ruthless invaders
Destroying lives, looting rights
Departing with devastating sights
But most often remaining there imperially
Injecting a daily hustle for a one time shrunken meal
At an age to play with crayons, they are unhome
Unhome to beat the pinching hunger
Do you own the same legacy?
You walk with the inheritance of privilege
Yet not grateful
You made it this far that millions could not
And yet you grumble over
Can’t you just look at what is there and show some gratitude
And stop staring at what there isn’t.
What you have is enough and more.
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