while thinking loud on a metaphor
that best fits the word -selfishness -
cancer fits.
little bit it grows
consuming the big whole
bit by bit till none is own.
the future matters not to it
but the present is its best hit-
eating, gathering, rooted till death spits.
people inflicted by it -
succumb to 'unhealthy' sorrows
to cover their naked shame prior to morrow.
what goodt then do you have
to habor a weird tumor?
nothing goodt comes from brooding
personal gains but personal groanings.
live life like the sun
shine to me
let me shine to you!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem