Born in slum

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
what a slum dweller faces,all the miseries of his life go unsaid unless someone becomes teh mouth for their unspoken, pitiful lives

Submitted: June 14, 2012

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Submitted: June 14, 2012

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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 2017 awaneesh1strivingbard. All rights reserved.

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