I am that milk
For fear of spoiling
How long have i been on gas
Consumers
According to their needs
Raise my temperature
Take out pure milk
Mixes up impurities
There are some friends
Who control gas button
Otherwise would have been
Swollen & been useless long before
Second the ***
In which I'm boiled
Is made up
In a prestigious institute
Increased requirements of people over time have increased
impurities in my soul
Still in the shape of cream
I still have some goodies
Friends still think
Why i haven't turned to " mawa"
While i think
Let the cream cover
my weak conscience
In the same fashion
Yesterday a friend said
That I'm "moody"
I afraid
Don't get off somewhere
Upper cream layer
And don't tell my friend
That I am the "chin" without mouth.