The love for nature will never cease
Mountain of thrash, this is your tryst
There’s a peace even the surrounding is mess.
The malady of poverty, you want it to cure
If you have only power, you will conjure
But the hope you've seen was obscured
In the backbone you had fractured.
At the window you look up the moon’s crescent
Wishing that there will be a heaven’s sent
But for the false dream you like to lament
The program for the poor is only entertainment.
In the cycle of life you're still a scavenger
This is was also the work of your father
Your shanty was wrecked by the bolt of thunder
But life for you is not absolutely somber.
You’re such a great if we will only behold
The story of heroism that never told
Because you’re living honest and never fraud
In a dump of rubbish you've found gold.
Your work is pure like a rivulet
You made sensation with the sunset
The good deeds must perpetuate
Even if you're barefooted that will lacerate.