One enlists in the pool,
Naked, fresh from a woman’s womb.
Either to rich or poor homes
The cry of a newborn echoes and roams
From crawls, to staggers at walk attempts
Then walking, running, soaring…
He’s inducted into life struggles
Daily ups, downs, expectations unending
He probably survives many hurdles
Records a heap of attainments.
Gets hooked in wedlock
And after, seeds pour.
He ensures to cater for burdens
Direct or extensions in doles.
Sometimes they are taken away about this time
And many a time, they live past to see retirement
Retirement from labour,
Seeing generations down the chain.
People grow old by mistake
A sage says.
So what is vanity’s goal?
Aiming to acquire all,
but not having a rest for your soul.
Or losing touch of the fact
That eternity is reality
And time is merely a passage through
Through, so all that is lived is shades
Spitting in the wind, lust for gains, fame
Causes for wars, maims; a shame.
Naked we were inducted,
With nothing we will be ejected.
Vanity, it’s all spitting in the wind.