Mules in a Concrete Zoo

/A step inside the metro

Squeezing self, adjusting

Balancing on toes as I stand

On the floor, amidst the crowd, I look around.

Tired faces, heavy shoulders

Their eyes speak the tales of exhaustion

Living life in a spiral, running running

Getting nowhere,

As they work 9 to 5 behind the desk

Superior yelling, client declining

Sandwiched between the two,

Just like this, many mules are stuck

In this concrete zoo.

No more their lives are theirs to be called

A lost photographer, a painter, a poet

A rebel, a revolutionary

Adjusting to the world of advancement and machinery

Where money equals success

And success equals peace

Oh! How wonderful it would have been

If these mules could follow what they want to be

Freeing everyone, themselves and their guardians

From the burdens of attacks and stress

Adding years to their lives

Doing something where their hearts reside/

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