Why Do I Work? - A Poem
Propelled by desire, Or stung by fear, One works for these reasons, One may also work, To meet the both ends, Or to feed one’s family, There is a ray of light that I see, That entices me to reach to it, There is a bridge to that end, It traverses through the path of toil, The toil is work, The work that has become a joy, Because the goal is not mere survival, But emancipation from this veil of the
Maya, The…
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