my dried leaves and yellow buds nurtured your mushy day;
Man's benevolence took exile, my stature went fragile
to let your son's feet smile, my saplings died;
i blotted the clouds for you and i chased the wind
for dignity of humanity,for thy successors to win
you are dead today surrounded by a little sand,
for they never learnt and kept on saying,
"DON'T CUT THE HELPING HAND"...
