I roam about with the world at my fingers
I taste the whole world from my plate
I wear whatever my mind decides
I am a winner wherever I go
but sometimes I lose my pride
I realize it was a misty fog
that I relished
I belong to a creed
that still believes
that religion, color and boundary
can stand high above
what my name, smiles and virtues
could stand for;
am I a winner or a mere loser?
Sometimes ghosts of prudence mocks at you!