Traders Poem by Sumit Ganguly
Traders
All of us are sellers.
In exchange of past assets
We buy present and future,
Sell them again to remain on stage.
To keep the TRP as a noon sun
We have to sell us for money, fame and throne.
All shows end one day,
As a pauper we then beg to embrace the blue.
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: hero
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4/19/2024 9:23:00 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Thus is a nice thought.