Soiled files speak the stories-
Of the provider, who lives:
‘By the soil’ and
‘Of the soil’.

The ant crawls through-
Amidst the crowds of particles
And it has never wished to know,
What the walls of its house-
The smell of soil invites it,
To bite the mortal.
Their colonies stands firm
Till a man demolishes them.
They work together
For every plate of meal.

Alas! The man too,
Didn’t wished to know
Where his meal came from.

There’s a conventional and,
Outdated truth:
Every mortal must sweat to eat
And no fat depletes the ozone
From any zones;
Embellished only…
With the favourite colours of:

-Vidhya Derrick


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