veeraiyah subbulakshmi

Waiting is like the morning mist,
Disappears in the compassionate sun's might,
As the human desire what they want,
When they need and how they handle.

Waiting is like the storm in the desert,
Why we wait, no one can assert, but we wait,
Get battered very often, sand dune at,
One place shifts to another, so our faults.

We have waited everywhere, with a hope and many,
An office boy to the Head of the Fools can deploy,
The waiting drama in front of their tiny office,
We can stand with empty stomach since morning until sunset.

To come back next sun rise, as the days and night never waited,
For anyone's signature to get the card to buy their rationed rice,
To get the community certificate to show whose gene we clutch,
Obtain the passport to abscond and in the temples in long queues.

People have waited here until they grow old,
People have waited here until their nerves rust,
People have waited here until their wishes vanish,
People have waited here until the nature can't tolerate.