Innocent Questions Poem by Varun Rao

Mother, mother. Why are we so poor?
How can i tell you?
Tell you, it is not my choosing of the way we live, or
Our blood line descends, can we ascend?
Its time stained ruling.
Son, you are only as poor as the mind feels.
For a rich man does not need many things.
If a rich man can be poor in ways,
A poor man can be rich always.
It's what i tell him.

Mother, mother. Why can't I follow my dreams willing?
How can I tell you?
Tell you, it is hard for us to live our dreams.
Our dreams are weaved for us,
That is how it seems.
Son, you can be as vibrant as your dreams calling
For a dreamer not dreaming is merely in existence.
Find your dream and see it till the end.
It's what i tell him.