Mine

In this world where people give names,

"mine", "yours" and "yours to tame",

wry was the heart that saw from a long lane,

how but words were spoken and not actions.

In this world, where words hold more fame,

than actions and love - they stay in hane,

where the kindest souls suffer the most

and the deepest hearts cry the most.

Every night, after a long strech of hurdles

lies the heart amidst the pilow trenches,

pourning all out, in tears and sorrow

The man who shows the true heart,

is but what, than a useful graft ?