Days go by, one by one
And what was once a passion for life,
Becomes monotony, dutifully done.
Sprouting buds, washed by mud-water,
Withering as leaves, in the scorching sun.
One fine future day, grown up and thriving,
You shall be appalled you just forgot to have fun!
Freedom of existence learns to sacrifice itself,
To them, that’s the day, the boy becomes a man.
Was he ever asked, if that’s what he wanted?
Or maybe, he was content with a timid human plan!