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The poor man,
Beaming with smiles,
Enters the photo studio.
Before he meets the photographer
who powders his face and wears him a bright suit
And a gold wrist watch.
Legs crossed into a multiplication sign.
Afterwards, the photographer captures the fine moment,
The moment a smiling poor man transforms into a king.
And the poor man will smile at himself
When his photograph is ready
But that will not change the misery
That awaits him outside the photo studio.
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I am @gandhibaba, the young man who goes about carrying his magical pen, not his gun, in his pockets.
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Gif courtesy of @artzanolino
that's really deep..it makes you think...you write beautifully!!!
Thanks for the compliment Mary. Glad, you liked the poem.
you're very welcome!!!...just keep up your good work...words can be powerful...writing makes your soul free..this way it can also touch and reach others