When I sit beside you and serve,
My thoughts wander the wildest imaginations on earth!
How oh heaven would he die?
By the chronic he is strung?
Or fall off your spunk
With another butyraceous torture!?
And when you sleep, I check;
Is he alive or dead?
So when I step out my house,
I smile
To hide the tensity!
And when I look at those million on streets,
I ponder what position they could be in!
And I compensate and glad.
Alhumdulillah! I am more fortunate than those poor fellows.
May lord bless them and help me to steadfast and steer my
wagon without any deviation.
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