Torn shoes, folded sleeves
Again a father is all set to leave.
Earn a penny which could feed
Demands his younger child need.
Pointing to the popcorn stall he made a vow,
Father didn't had a penny that's what he showed.
Returning heavy-hearted he sat on the chair,
How can I earn a little more that's only what he cared.
Kissing the forehead of his child,
He promised "tomorrow his child will have the best vibe".
Looking at the moon and stars,
He stated his complaint.
Life being so tough here
And you don't even care.
No wonder what kind of job tomorrow he's gonna do.
But all he knew was that his earnings are the mere source gonna feed tummy through