We cant survive without our parents..
Without my mother, my father and my friends..
We want to wander here and there aimlessly
Like a boat lingering in the streams..
With our friends..
But ours are not blesssed like you...
We have to work under hot chimneys..
Our dreams and small small happy events
Are stolen to fill our stomach..
We have to work 18 hours
While my friend who is the son of my owner
Eats well and he remains happy forever..
But our tears got mixed with the oil lust of machines
And lubricate the giant machines...
We are lubricants--our blood is the lubricant for our owners..
In the rainy days when my owners son plays with rain
I seeing the scene slowly like a stranger
From the dark windows....
Like a feeling of throat dipped in acids
With everlasting dreams
Survives under this ditch..
Under this jail..
Slowly my blinking eyes sets
To sleep..
To work tomorrow...!!
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