The Beggar

A shapeless grubby bowl,

Picked up from the garbage,

Is the sole companion

Of his slovenly soul

Discarded by the goodness

That defines humankind,

Along with the tattered remains

Of fabric wrapped around

His filthy cold body,

Aged, crippled!

Haplessly he stares:-

Every moment of his bloody existence,

In severe expectation

At every pedestrian

Who passes by

Awaiting that glorious instant

When a coin would be flung

At his despicable self

Staggering in woe

At despair’s behest!

And at days’ end-

When he can barely manage

To satisfy his

Insatiable hunger …

He looks up at the sky

With tear soaked eyes!

And he begs for his salvation!

To be at peace forever

Renouncing this curse of a life,

Wretched and deplorable:-

He closes his eyes

Hoping not for a better but for

No tomorrow,

Only to wake up

At the sound of the honking horns

And the raging glares of the summer sun!

His fight for survival begins;

The inevitable life takes its course;

How much more can he endure …

Inconsequential, as right there

The beggar begs on

The corner of the road,

Lost and forlorn,

All day long!

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Filed under Poetry, Random

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