There is no need ruling
For plebs to peruse at glitters
And whales in a stagnant lake
While your stomachs turn pots.
There is no need painting
A rusted iron rooted in water
Whose salinity is at its peak
Corroding as a hell on earth.
There is no need hiding
Or shying away from matters
That could heal our weak links…
And end the present hardship felt.
There is no need saying
We are pretty, when it is filters
And powders that makes us sleek
Yet plebs dwell and live in regret.