As my pot of tea I gently tilt
And pour to fill my evening cup that cheers
When suddenly unbidden comes the tears
For every heirloom has its share of guilt

But e’en before the teardrops can be spilt
With hardened heart I spoon the sugar and
Trying to forget the silver spoon in hand
Yes every heirloom brings its share of guilt

For when you’re well off, sated to the hilt
It’s easy to forget these little things
Now, jolted to the sensitivity it brings
Does every heirloom have its share of guilt?

For just a moment, then it’s all forgot
How quickly we climb back to our callous slot