Joy

Joy

A piece of wood or a tin can as a toy brings the kid joy.
A slice of bread he is happy to be fed.
A roof over his head is all he needs when he goes to bed.
A mattress of grass, the night will pass.
His clothes are torn and patched, yet he has new ideas hatched.
He sits in the sunshine observing the turmoil.
He has no worry or remorse just sitting in the soil.
He is happy and contented.
Why should he be demented?
Wealth cannot buy happiness or health.
Zaki Sema