Does being born
Enslave us
To a life forlorn
In the quest of
Leaving a footprint
On sand
We dance and sing
To the tune
Of puppeteer(s) unknown
To be remembered
After we are gone
We happily accept
The crown of thorn
And make a mockery of
Life
Of others
And our own
©Pranab Sarma, 2018
This poem started as a comment to Will I Make HeadLine News ( Sweet Aroma)