Shylock: &Quot;I Am [not] Content&Quot; Poem by Md. Ziaul Haque

What's contentment?
Try to define I but can't,
It's like a moving train,
We feel it fleetingly and it's gone.

With a little, some are pleased,
And don't need,
More,
Like a greedy tiger.

Some like Shylock among us,
Have the luxury to say thus,
"We're content" even after,
Losing all they have held dear.

Is Shylock content truly?
Even after losing his religion eternally,
As someone bids farewell,
To a departing soul bound for heaven or hell!

It indeed is arguable,
Yet what my heart longs to tell,
Is that Shylock does deserve penalty,
But his religion certainly is not guilty!