Restrictions flourish, few attain true aim.
Energies mischannelled, modern man
Victim of his greed no longer can
Options clear identify. Most blame
Life’s treadmill limits, thoughtless, partial claim.
Vice stifles virtue, leaves truth also-ran.
Is Man Time’s puppet stringed? Swift seconds span,
Ne'er heed heart's need where greed feeds final flame,
Growth self-destructive, rushes blind and lame
Down cul-de-sac climactic for no plan
Exists to feed the homeless. Few dare scan
Between life’s lines which with their fate play games.
If self-respect depends on home secure
Then from abuse of man by man what cure?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem