Perpetual Turmoil

by Harshita Das aged 12

Perpetual Turmoil
She went around the building, screaming at her employees
Tired, not physically but mentally
Endless money in her gold-filled vault
Didn’t seem to satisfy
And now she no longer knew what she wanted

He looked from the window and outside
Harvest time had come around
And the crops glittered like dandelions
He worked hard for little money
But had a certain peace in him

Although he might have gained money
He knew that with it came responsibility
Responsibility to make decisions that could change the world
And he never wanted to be a part of perpetual turmoil

3 Responses to “Perpetual Turmoil”

  • Roger Stevens

    There’s a phrase – peace of mind – that might fit line 11 better. I like the poem. You are becoming very profound.

    Reply
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