Cry of the man

Not that I had none

Or that bad is mine,

I want your toy.

Not that mine is broken

Or that it is slackened,

I want your toy.

Not that yours is rare

Or that it is super,

I want your toy.

That yours is strange

And is in your range,

I want your toy.

Not for an exchange

But for a change,

I want your toy.

Lest you should covet

I shall keep a vigil

Over my own toy.

I can’t elope with yours.

I can’t abduct it.

Yet I want your toy.

You won’t spare it.

You won’t sell it.

Still I want your toy.

Let me play behind.

You lost no joy.

You lost no toy.

It is the cry of man

in ethics ridden clan.          

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