Poverty Poem by Ramakrushna Sahu

Either we long for the lost
Or desire that which is not
But that which is slips
Like sands from our palms
And we remain always vacant

It is at present
At this very moment and point
The door opens to the whole
But every time we miss the chance
As our legs depend on a path
And the eyes are invariably closed

In longing for the lost
And desiring for the not
We are deprived of the available
We take the reality as a painting
And the painting as a reality
And thereby we miss
Both the painting and the reality

We are born rich
But our blindness
Makes us poor