On some days, life only says
Pray, do cherish my rays
What I choose to give
Is not meant to be a grieve!
Yet, you see it not as such
And you like it not much
Taken as the wasted garbage
You make of it not an advantage
Always envious
Always pretentious
More than arrogant
You even become vagrant
So, ask I,
If Life could stop by
What would ask of him
What would you change in him
Cruel indeed you would be
For to live and enjoy humanity
Is not only an art
It is the very aim of your heart!
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