DIAMONDS

A rich man

Keeping a lot of diamonds

In powerful lockers

Or box by box

In hidden underground places.

He gets out those daily

And watching those

Gloats in solitude.

Though he has lot of gems

Yet too poor

To spend.

No courage to reveal

Those to the world

And those keep glimmering

In lonely rooms.

While a poor labourer

Who works in burning sun

Has lot of tiny diamonds

Adorning his forehead

As a symbol of his endeavour.

Though wearing torn clothes

Yet so rich

That he collects those diamonds

In his fist

And like a generous

Throws those away in the air.