When I had my own premises,
You bombarded me with great sorrows
And, dumped my unwanted red pains.
With the elimination of my existence
My sorrows become yours,
-in your own backyard,-
You start to share my pains
Losing my premises in physical space
is much easy,
Like a migrating northern bird in winter
While winning physically,
You lose to me
- Morally too.
’09 Jan., 11 Sunday 22:45 EST