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FEW AND MANY (revised)
A few are born with golden spoons.
They love to live the life to full.
Many but spilled out of spittoons,
who wish to die today, doleful.
The few know not the many; nor
they try to lend a kindest ear
to their grim cry; nor see their scars
still bleeding years after the tear.
They have a name and fame to cheer.
A castle huge on mountain top
to view the bright morrow so clear
and sip nectar of life, non-stop.
The few can afford high ambitions;
record memoirs and travelogues;
can play wise pranks and weave a yarn
and bring new trends and styles to vogue.
Many a reason have, the few
to live; but everything askew
for those many to live. They live
to die and die when fail to live.