Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
The Planning. - Poem by Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
The old man in his eighty's
Searches every where something
When asked he told
I searches my treasure box
The box contains the coins
Where it put in a box and then in bag
And hid somewhere in the compound
We all tried to trace out
But not found the poor man's treasure
Which might have used for his livelihood
He searched and searched
Not knowing the treasure box is gone
Somewhere in road formation
And the coins itself is hidden
Underneath of the tarred surface in depth
The ill lucky fellow the old man
Who died after some days in desperation
Where luck is not favored sometimes
Though planning of life is ensured.
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