My Work.

May be the world is forever round.
Or the sand is forever ground.
But this little piece of land,
is my asset of pride, alright.

Gone are the days I was landless.
Gone the days of being penniless.
My birth finally finds a meaning.
And my wife, can now stop weeping.

My kids can have their square meals now.
The mud pots no longer would be dry.
......

Should I continue?
I wish.
But I will kill you, if I do.
I dont feel like killing you.
May be, I should let you live.
Just give in to a bit of hope.
Flourish and find peace.
I am your God, your Creator.
You are MY work.
Yeah my farmer, grow.
Flourish and find peace.
I let you be!

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