We Are The Jokes! Who Is The Author? Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

Our elders sit under the special tree,
Talking of cultural and financial affairs,
Their brains are the same as their fathers,
Digitally transpired in the genetic converters,
To them contamination is evil and a spoiler,
And want to separate the people under the divider,
We are proud to call ourselves as the traders,
Of what our forefathers had done as the feeders,
Scarcity of everything is normal and our,
People build their castle using word weaver,
When the guests arrive to an unfurnished quarters,
We ask them to be seated while our heads are on the air,
Our markets are not there beside the polluted rivers,
Our markets are not there in collecting and selling to the buyers,
Our markets are filled with ideas that are macros in nature,
Our markets are filled with lazy but harsh money lenders,
Our policy makers work at night and the dreamers,
We are abandoned in millions as the scavengers,
Living on left over and call ourselves millionaires,
We are colored uniformly with poverty painters,
We have become the joke to people who are the winners.