A Way To Describe Them
They say life is worth,
When you're on all four.
They will drag you into this,
In one long endeavour.
The pessimistic realism,
They adopted for themselves.
Ref to them, it is the best,
You can do for yourself.
What we call a life,
Is all blotched for them.
Superimposed monotony -
They need it for us to tame.
Talking of them, life is a corollary,
One shouldn't attempt any change.
But they've got no clue
Of the outcomes,
When inner fire is exchanged.
For them, we are a bunch of
Blasphemous vagabonds,
Ending in nothing.
But they never envisage things as we do,
And hence end up in loathing.
For them, we are perverted brats,
Lost in their way.
But what bliss!
We find extreme pleasure, as such they say.
Our livelihood is one big covert mystery for them.
Full of marijuana, they say,
It's a dirty game.
But they judge only a meagre,
As we all know.
Still they don't want to see,
The truth of major class though.
For us, better be an entrepreneur,
Than a normal self-imposed guy.
'Cause the ancestral trace versus current generation,
Is never going to tie.