Office of Humanity!

If being pauper is my crime,

Thought the painter in his mind;

Then atrocious is their sight.

Waking up to the glittery land

That everyone has transcend

With the money minded band.

Nothing to eat, no reason to breathe

All are working as a creep

Who only breathe to cover their needs?

I went to color their ashy brown world

Full of dusts, filth, and eyes-mould;

But did not commit a crime so bold.

They saw the color wasted

But not me who lie ghastly

He laughed and she held her curl hastily. 

He died! He Died! Cried my wife

Poor she unable to understand their naïve

They said “pay us for the paint he wasted and stop crying”.