Who is the lucky one
Who dug out all the roots of the
Saplings planted in a garden
Lest their thorns
Get entangled with your scarf when
You carelessly wrap it
Around on a cold wintry night
Or the one
Who has embarked upon
A new journey
With bottles full of water
For quenching thirst on the way
Why will then you stop by
Near a well
I had been digging
Just in case we needed the water
But that is not relevant any more
Go
The lucky one