I do laugh at my life some time or other,
And 'so see on your face the kind of grin,
Of waves of scorn, and laughter I do hear
If life as a joke you take on your chin.
Smirks up the pauper's wryness on his dry lips
As he drags back to hovel with empty bowl
Or grimace when the erstwhile model peeps
Onto her crumpled face once all did drool'.
More, can your life be grave while Saviors fall
To shots of sinners or their sabotage?
Or, can there be a better satire at all
Than when your child disowns your parentage?
The whole of life echoes with sounds of laughs,
And clear when quiet are parties, pains, their flaps.
- N. P. SAMAL
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