Why boastful, my flesh?

Still firmly earthed to the soil

But beyond the sun your ego

Hauls you so high through the flexible air

Yes! Your roof leaks not; tightly sealed

Your walls so fortress so fortified

Your floor so dustless

Your purses never found empty

Your sleek never gets staled

Boastful upon these, my flesh?

Know you not

Clay product you are,

Fashioned by the Perfect potter

Whose breathe bears you

Through this journey you go

But of the hour that brings it to a halt

Beyond your knowledge hangs so high

And at a pulse, you crumble to dust

Why boastful, my flesh?

Why boastful, my flesh?

These paupers and destitute

These starving child and home

Who daily mope for crumbs at your table

Why not give them a hope

To make value of their destiny?