Don’t mock the humble life

Do not laugh at me because I live in the countryside,

Far, far away from civilization, your civilization

Or because I live in a mud walled hut, roofed with thatch

So that when it rains, I could fetch the water from the leaking roof

Do not laugh at my inability to speak or see things like you do

Don’t be amazed that I wear a barefoot as my special sandals

And I may use rough and crude means to provide my food

These are the extent I can survive, so please don’t mock me

Do not laugh at me when you see my breakfast without meat

Or my garden without great beasts, huge birds and red roses

I grow my seeds in the toughest of lands, where I must bend to till

And the weeds and grasses are sometimes stronger than my palms

Maybe, my pants are patched and you can see through my soul

That the waters I dream to drink are unfit for your consumption

So I am wild, I am crude, dirty and to you poor

Well, let me prove to you why I am not what you think…


Do you know though I miss out in your city merriment

That I savor the smell of fresh air and freedom?

That I can hear the wild teach and talk to me about life?

I have streams to cool my feet when the sun is at her worst

They wash my stress away and will let the small fishes play in-between my toes

I sit on the shed of mango, cashew trees when the heat is unbearable

Do you know that they fan me with their leaves as the birds sing a lullaby,

And in times of their fruitfulness they throw me a snack, costless and fresh?

I see the sun rise, not as a call to business but as a spectacle to behold

So when I touch the flowers that grow wild on the dusty road

And smell their wonderful fragrance, I feel much much alive

So please don’t laugh at me if you will not trade places with me

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