A People Poem by Hannatu Pqrs

For Sorrow's stories
They heave a sigh
For compassion, they only try

For Vanity's sake
They plunder and squander
Whose property, they never wonder

For the poor and needy
They shed some tears
After a while, they cease to care

In the face of danger
They remember their Lord
When safety returns, gone is God

For fear of death
They are hypochondriacs
While also being dipsomaniacs

In their places of worship
They tell the truth
While outside, they forget the proof

Before an audience
They try at being good
By themselves, you could be fooled

To save their hides
They stoop to lies
Regardless of the means, the ends seem nice

For want of friendship
They give in to peer pressure
The extent of their stupidity, they never measure

For earthly gain
They sacrifice human lives
The blood money therefrom conceals the viles

For a paltry price
They rob their brothers
After all, the police never seem bothered

For fashion, fame and fortune
They throw morality to the dogs
Impressing others is one of their bugs

For an instant's pleasure
They break the rules
And never think of what they may lose

For want of individuality
They try to be different
On uniqueness, they are bent

Behind the mask of liberation
They maim and kill
Their true motives, they never reveal

They cheat their customers
For a miserly gain
And double their profit, again and again

They change their make
For a while's youthful beauty
Ageing they consider to be cruelty

All for a little while…