You say that I am unlucky,
To those spotting me during the day.
It’s not that I want to be seen,
It’s because you’ve taken my home away.
As for unlucky- it doesn’t take someone wise,
To figure out the impending doom.
This you bring upon yourself.
Luck, here, has no room.
Trees that take decades to grow,
You have razed them to the ground.
And with this, the invisible bonds
Have all come crashing down.
While you continue to believe in your ‘progress’
And hide behind superstitions,
I wonder how long it will take to sink-
That it is later than you think.
