The Poor Public Opinion
R
Rahman Henry
0
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Face on the ground— he fell in a ditch, the poor;
At the beginning, alternatively, in front of him
It was open: 350 highways;
But no one of them reaches the destination,
Goes straight to the cave where air-cooler inside.
He began waiting—
Reopened: 350 streets;
Still, no one is onto the populace,
Instead, running— towards unobstructed treasury!
In unbearable sufferings, the poor left behind
and waiting;
Ah! when again someone would open
350 more routes? which:
Through rice, jute and wheatfields,
Continues to run— towards the whole Bangladesh!
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