A noble act it seemed,
But time wore it out.
The bony frame now remains,
Picked clean of flesh by crow.
This sacrifice for siblings,
This obedience to tradition,
This obedience to parents,
This underselling of self,
Family is everything we agree,
But life is it and more,
A matrimony for money,
Is nothing but what it is.
The route to the heavens abound,
Perhaps a farther look is it,
Making the most of our mind,
To get the most of life.
