Penurious Birth Poem by HARSH OZA

Few are born with silvery crown
Called as the astron of there hive,

Few are born with parsimonious surrounds
Called as the one more in count,

The difference they inherited from
There progenital being,

There journey of pathos has commenced
While they are still ignorant about there being alive,

Strange are systems of this
G-20 world,
Peer harsh treatment
To this young-one,

Brains that should seek-knowledge
Are hampered immoral theosis,

Hands that should learn art
Are made to beg,

Eyes that should adore nature
Are exposed to vice of night,

Footsteps that should parade success
Are ask to rob n run.

Why distinguish? knowing that
‘each one is god’s own child’.

Priest busy spreading the gospel
Making them missionary at his church,

Rich happy donating
Scripting there name at community center,

And rest left like us
‘happy discussing’ the ‘sorry words’.

Can the earth ever unite? ?
To fight against this
Monetary disease.

Can this naïve’s
Ever expect parity
If not from the system,
But just air, food & water
All that nature blessed them with ….