From my cuticles to my toes,
They all tell me their woes
They ask me for some pamper,
but how selfish I am, I ignore.
I crucify them to so much pains,
But the prodigal me can't satisy them with the color paints.
There is something more than just exuberance that they need.
Rest and peace is what they want me them to feed.
I prostrate them from every dawn till the late dusk,
Till it pains underneath their husk.
From the epoch when the sparrows crook,
Till the time the bats shook.
I exploit them for longest hours,
But I forget that they are my own part.
One day when they give me back the same heck,
I will be underneath the most fervent wreck.