How many people pass by them all day long,
As the wind touch their skin to feel cold and warm,
To unknown destination they travel thinking,
They travel to the known destination of working and sleeping,
Planning for hours, to reach the goals on time,
Displaced using the available sources to release tension,
They have changed a lot from the dirty hunters, in appearance,
Habits of them never changed as their ancestors, who strive,
To seek the better of better always, will this search ever stop?
Darwinism, survival of the fittest and you are taking of the fittest M'aam. Sequel to your write 'searching', ...... 'Contentment', I invite you to critically appraise the same.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Man will always be searching...on and on... I like this poem.