He lay there in the dust
On the dirty road
In the clumsy street
Dry and crippled he looks
As if he has no hope to live…
Or as if he wants to die
He lay there by the park
On the footpath…
Just beside the balloon seller,
Who makes a penny or two a day
Thinks to himself – the cursed man
How happy his life’d be
If it were for him to work
A wave of hunger ripples through him
But, he can’t even beg today
He’s done this job all his life
Cried and begged and ate what was thrown away
But, today he burnt the hunger away
Today, all these years after
He shuddered for once
He “broke”, he lost for once
The heart that was brave just yesterday
Stopped all at once
The breath that kept him hoping
Vanished into thin air
This cursed life faded away….
But he still lay there
The beggar…
No friend to shed a tear
No family to weep at his death
Or to lit his funeral pyre
He lay there
Probably waiting for
The mother earth to
Swallow him into herself
Still the street is as it was
Busy as usual
But just by the park I see
He lay there in the dust…..
