All cloths of mine are well torn
Though from months there’s one i have worn
My shoes are undone but i won’t complain
As tey don’t have laces, which could be blamed.
I am nonchalant, but a bit numskull
I stroll like a pooch in the evening sun
My life isn’t ful of zest and fun
My only mistake is, i was born in slum.
With a glimpse of this place hideousness is defined,
I liar i would be if i say i love it
When i beg people say “go to hell”
It might be better than where i dwell.
Every other day i feel more worthless
But there’s not a soul who cares.
Satchel and bags i too dream of them
But living in dreams is just not fair.
I do bath daily in the filthy water of sea
That threatens to swallow my mud house
My future is tumultous i can foresee
Everyday the sea sings dirge for me.
It’s ridiculous to say but i’m jealous of dogs.
There stomach gets more food than mine
I fight them in the slum’s bog
For a half eaten pie to dine.
Ain’t i a human? Don’t i have the right to survive?
Even i’ m a living creature whom god has gifted life
Oh god! Won’t oyu give support to this lame,
Show some benevolence; don’t let me be who i am.
© Copyright 2016 awaneesh1strivingbard. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
Short Story / Non-Fiction
Poem / Poetry
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