The Debt Of Life

The life you carry does not belong to you,
It belongs to those, those who nurtured it.

It belongs to the efforts, those kept you alive,
through the wind, through the dark,
those who kept you ready, for the trouble on the mark.

The little fingers, skinny flesh and weak bloody veins,
they gave you sheild, no matter its sun or heavy rains.

The life you carry does not belong to you,
It belongs to those, those who nurtured it.

You were nothing more than a lame,
a creature with nothing in itself, just a minor flame.
With all their care and sources they made you big.

Now when you are mature, its your life and your desire,
you can live it your way, or the way they admire.
But everytime you play a game, dont forget you were a lame,
a debt that can never be paid is pending upon you.

The life you carry does not belong to you,
It belongs to those, those who nurtured it.