People are dwellings with different ornaments,
They are all about their temperaments.
They are building that comes vacant with rooms,
Filled with their life of agonies and joy.
People stay with their preference,
There is a lightness in their smiles.
Colour transforming each juncture,
Last longer than the other.
Locked with keys they can’t keep,
Safeguarding them from strangers,
Why are they fearful of them coming?
In a world where everybody can have a home of there own.
Let you be their dwelling, they can come,
Sometimes let them put their keys on the entrance.
If willing to come they’ll be back, hastily after they leave.