Life of a farmer in India

 

Round and round the fields of life,

They go wandering till it's ripe;

Sweats of hardwork dripping wet,

Weeping sorrows in their breath;

No man, no women in their eyes,

For all are working for their lives;

Till the end of harvest smiles,

They wait patient lots of miles;

Stormy winds and crazy rains,

Lub dub sounds of fearful nights;

Praying for their crops tonight,

Morning sun brings bright delight;

The day they take their sickle comes,

In a flash they reap their farms;

Untill all the harvest done,

They go reaping till its dawn;

All their efforts of hardship brings,

Worthy breads for short lived days;

All they hope is live in peace,

With their family as one piece;

They don't ask for all their needs,

All they need is their own meals;

Why can't we hear all their pleas,

For they cry for their hunger needs;

No fun no joy in their lives,

Till they go to their own graves;

Why they live a fruitless life?

For we may live an effortless life;

Come friends to help all these cries,

As they are jewels of country's reins;

We go to bring their own hope,

Let's go fight for the fallen pride!

 


Submitted: December 22, 2021

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