Radio Money
Radio has offered
Ten bag-full, with dollars
Max-amount ten thousands
It is simple
Many call like sperms
Like drones’ rush to mate
Only one wins;
This caller wins the game
Takes risk in, a gamble.
“One? ” or “Two? ” and so on
“Yes! ”, “Still…further on! ”
Few say: “Let me think, ” then reject or approve.
The three, four… to ten…
Not always they can end
Ending dot is succumb or the bust.
But in depth…
This mirror is dirty
Who pays?
Why?
For fooling?
Advertise?
What is for?
And buyer?
Why succumb… to dollar?
With first bag, or second, or the third?
Is it need?
Why fear to follow to the end?
Just few hundreds?
In this land?
Wow to this…
And the risk?
Is it need or greed?
Then a buzz:
“You have lost! ”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem