In withered clothes and shambled looks
How graceful does he look?
No qualms no fears of today or tomorrow
He is so poor that he doesn't even have any sorrow
While most of us are planning ahead
He is just anxious how he will be fed
As you shop for the winter so far
Just wanting to cover himself he wonders and just looks at the stars
As we search for the elixir to arrest our age
He rubs his bodice with the ashes as a true sage
While some of us brood of the love we have lost
And some cherish the new love we just got
He is unaware of his solitude
Just looking for a little gratitude
For he also is as human as all
Once upon a time he was as poor as us all
Before he was blessed with the divine fall
While we sulk in our abundance and do not realize
He is blissful and content one cannot surmise
He is the richest being amongst us mortals
And we thought he is the poorest of us all…
