Friday, September 2, 2011

THE BEGGAR

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…..still to herself

ther earth to

eath

still lay there

way...ng

sterday

way

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