Tuesday, January 6, 2009

The Mirage

My grandpa once told me of a golden deer,
running here there and everywhere;
Thought he saw water near
Alas ! who would tell of the imaginery well nowhere.

Years passed, I grew big and strong
My father told me of his animals and fields;
At the farm I felt the days short and nights long,
I worked hard and realised my dreams.

I am a man now and living in luxury
I have people working for me
And have nothing to worry ?
Is it really? For I am rich only by money.

The market holds the cash in stacks,
The banker boasts of lending so many.
The Bull and the Bear each patting on the backs
Why am I standing so lonely ?

I dream to go away and own a farm
How I remember my grandpa's words so warm !
'Aye my child ! The deer is safe in the foliage'
'Alas !' I say, this is just a mirage.

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