poem : Silent Exchange

If I lose my work, no one else is ruined.

Ruined are only my wife,

My aged mother , my old father,

and my infant child.

And yet , I rush to rallies,

even at the cost of my own work,

so that some 'special ' one

may not face destruction.

But I do not think , not even once ----

if I do not go,

then he himself will come rushing

To save my work.