In our own land, when we become a nomad,
Destitute of land, stolen the home had,
By the self-proclaimed democratic rulers,
Winning the votes of thy own farm producers.

Their tiring feet walks past woods a several miles,
In search of tranquillity and a new utopia;
Vowed under the declaration for ten deciles,
But finally put to rest in the realms of myopia.

The promise of loan waiver, I wonder!
Under the contracts of wide blue yonder;
Reality struck when they run-down of water,
And suffer in the dark hours of night in hunger.

Erected dams in the name of irrigation,
The land then hawked, belongs for agriculture.
Corporates encumber those in invasion,
To erect concrete tower seeking candidature.

A few among the displaced souls then made slaves,
With permanent stature in concrete caves;
Thus widen gaps between the rich and the poor,
Corporates then offer them alms in grandeur.