With Optimism, reveries and ambitions they move, with death snubbed and life in the cross fire, their world in a suitcase- they move; Destination anywhere – this human chain – moves. From their soil in Bangladesh; to the land of the might rhinos, they cross the mighty Brahmaputra; Heavy heart, wild fancies and hope, From the land of Mexico, To mighty America; From the land of the Czars, To unknown habitat- and beyond the Thar. Expatriates, Refugees, Emigrants? Ethiopian? Iraqi? Burmese? Somali? Sudanese? Vietnamese...........They move, Life in a suitcase; only option- they choose. No soul adjudicate such fate, Sometime it gets late; Their life enclosed in the edge of a razor blade, The Wars! Terrorism! Shelling! Nature’s folly! Liquidations? And more They race. The world was a free land and was never fenced; The Mexicans now digging; Few swims to exaltation; out of sense. Few enclosed in ampoules, sails in painful symphony, Trying to re-write their destiny.
If money can’t buy happiness;
Ask the poor the cost of blood;
If money can’t buy happiness;
Ask the courtesan the cost of lust;
Money can’t buy happiness?
The sea makes you smile;
But what takes you that mile?
Life in a suitcase- wild.
