SONNET 140
By JH Sayyar
Ah! In poverty leaves the reflection,
Brothers, friends, relatives turn face,
Even luck star changes its direction,
Behind it poverty walks with its pace.
Nothing here constant; all days move,
Sometime gloom here sometime there,
The rich falls, poor rises all ages prove,
In earning bread none’s wisdom-share
Lose not patience, its reward is must,
Brave faces trials, cowards afraid of it,
Bad days vanish, my poor heart trust,
Wisdom follows it if you think of a bit.
Richness or poverty; the state of mind,
As we believe in devils but can’t find!
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