Most ovious things occur among us
Almost everyday, every second
We certainly go on doing our works-everytime
None of our business whether soneone is dying
Someone is hungry besides our apartment's slum
Craving for just one mosel of food from anywhere
Just none of our business-naah-never, we don't bother
But my dear friend,
There would also be a mother like among us
Who is praying for the food to his small children
Who too bothers that his husband might be working
To just provide the square mill to his family
In whose eyes there would be dreams of gold and silver
But that dream always rests there, for forever
Days go on passing providing them dissapointment
And the eyes that have dreams of gold and silver
Somwhere, are closed for forever