Reality Poem by Niharica Bhardwaj

They sleep on gold,
but their souls are sold;
no sugar on their tongue,
yet their glories are sung!
their dreams are contented,
yet not satisfied,
They have the best thread,
not the happiness they once eyed.

While under the humble straw,
lies his brother,
whose eyes never saw,
the sister of his mother;
Whose only light is oil,
Whose only work is toil,
yet a happy nap,
remains ready for him to wrap.

But he toils to get the money,
to sleep on gold with not just a penny.