Mirror

Mirror, mirror on the wall
who do you think is the happiest of all?


Is it the man with truckloads of money
Who is bathed in luxury?
Has his own beach for the days sunny,
and a golden toilet to pee?


Is it the man with nature's power,
He who can make the country dance?
Who can decide the fate of rocks and flowers
And wipe life on Earth without a chance?


Is it the man who rules the nation,
who can decide where the country-esque ship must sail?
He who can reward the good
and send the baddies to jail?


No, my son, none of these,
can match the farmer of fields.
He provides the world with grains, veggies and peas
Through the the power of the spades he yields.


The men of might are useless
when it comes to policemen.
The mighty men are worse than pieces in chess
and like to gobble the nation's yen.


These men do not have a pinch of sacrifice
Like the soldier at the turret
For him, his duty to the nation is never suffice
And is ready to meet death from a bullet. 


Son, there might be men of fire and ice,
who may have power beyond imagination.
But they pale out in front of men in service,
proud of their duty to their nation.