Poet1:
Our days are dark.
Neither morning nor afternoon we own.
We would soliloquize in our chamber all alone,
For the world to drum the beat of joy.
Or sometimes the beat of eternal.
Poet2:
"All alone",you say,even if you had a thousand people, you would still feel alone.
You look at us like we owe you pity and care.
You think Riches makes us happy?
You feel we are responsible for your sorrow?
Poet1:
You sleep in the warmth of the lovely darkness,
And while we are the warlords of the dreaded cold night.
Your buckets are full and dripping,
While ours are as dry as deserts.
Share us the drippings had your minds forgotten.
Poet2:
The warm darkness doesn't give us the peace of mind we desire.
No matter how much we give, your buckets won't be full,
And ours will continue to drip.
You keep asking for more like it something you worked for.
Even if we switched position,you wouldn't still work but ask for more.
Poet1:
Try us if we shall do better not,
Come in our shoes,
And give us your pool,
Give us the crowns and see beyond what you saw.
Who knows?
We might drive the bus better.
Poet2:
From the little you have,do better.
We have all been in your shoes and we have out grown it,they don't fit anymore.
We've given you pieces from the pool but you were so ignorant were you.
If we give you the crown,you would still use it as a pouch to collect alms.
Poet1:
We are necessary and part of the existence.
Religiously, you give us small to have bounty.
Economically, you our kings that drives our hands without choice.
And socially, we ward off the scorpions to their holes.
Poet2:
We both make up the society.
We both need each other in a way.
We both should treat ourselves with humility.
And maybe one day you'd be the hand that gives.
