Poor And Their Issues..

We are on the other side of the fences, Watching you all through the tinted glasses, Erected on alien hearts of the trespassers, Interest of the ‘well wishers' and perfectionists. The hearts can't be tilled when no water of love, The minds can't be mapped when no direction exits, The eagerness in the eyes pierces every humble stranger, We are not aware of the blueprint of the dispatcher. Blame her not when she gives birth to every sorrow, Blame him not when he is mercilessly cruel enough, Blame them not when others of same situation excel, Blame us when our people wear the tattered apparel.