A Running Man; Fox & Bitter Grapes

He is running or a limping walk? How far he runs? He is tired and stopped! And how long he could wait? Promises are like gas-balloons in the sky. He straightens a rickety ladder and climbs the greasy steps carefully To pluck the cluster grapes. A run away rabies infected fox pulls the ladder and cries down; 'Life is nothing but only a fistful of bitter grapes.' To my dear friend Jerry for his promising health and also to Max.Reif and Dennis.Joe of their lull. *[ It's really funny and strange, still I remember what the poor street lunatic said a long time ago after seeing my crotchety palm; 'Hey! My comrade keep your toy gun aside and you are not belongs to your motherland anymore.Your natural death will occurs in a foreign land some day.]