The other side

The way to the hereafter has been painted in many strokes,

From stairways, riverways and elevator rides.

But when our time is come, there is one man, our path guides.

Our forfathers gave a coin, but we give 5 stars.

For this man captains not a ferry, but an Uber all ours.

When the ferryman comes, and in his Honda you sit,

Be kind, be polite, for you he does not do it.

All for the money, for your credit lay your hopes

This poem is about: 
Our world


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