Corruption Poem by Pathik Tank

At the age of four,
when scars were sour,
feelings were plenty,
words were empty,

At the age of ten,
words learnt are few,
but i was true,
I went school,
to see some fool,

At the age of six teen,
I was into my books,
I forgot my looks,
Feelings went empty,
Words were plenty,

At the age of twenty two,
I turn into TWO,
I fed bribing,
Inside I am dieing,

At the age of sixty three,
I want to set me free,
I am afraid of wrong deeds,
No one is ready to share a seat,

At the age of eighty eight,
when i was on death bed,
pillow was of gold,
But death is never sold,

THE MONEY I BRIBED,
WILL NEVER HELP ME AFTER MY LIFE,
WITH THAT GRIEF IN MY HEART,
i DIED AND FELL APART