A Poor’s Love.


When the poor cometh loud
voices raised as proud
when the miseries make ways
in the storms are giveth hays
its strength making love
like a peace-ridden dove
the wealthy then scream
for the poor make the cream
then the milk they sip
is at the mercy of a poor tip
the sun in skies just smiles
all the wealthy dragged for miles
the poor take away the bride
but money is the price of their pride
and they shall lose it wrong
for they were never meant to be strong.

Khan Elie Gohar Durrani.


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