I dont know about other countries much....even though India is having an economic boom,beggars are crying in every corner of the streets,at every railway stations...poverty is lurking everywhere...sparing a thought for them...


The last time i was in a train
My face shrunk seeing the dirt.
Desperate was i to escape the filth,
When came a soul;

A soul whom we hate
As they lay their hands to beg,
A soul seeing whom we move aside
As they approach us for the slightest mercy,
A soul ,whom we dont even look at
As they cry for a priceless penny.

Such is the soul,
Who stinks,
And on the spit he sits;
He does not mind cleaning the dirtiest hell
He does not mind even if you dont love him;
Its nothing but his little expectations,
That he reaps in his glowing eyes
And thrives in his whispering sighs.

I felt like hugging the little Jesus
I felt like crying seeing his laid out palm
Without a penny;
I gave him five rupees
Such a beggar was I.

Poetry by suraj
Read 753 times
Written on 2007-07-10 at 12:09

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Jason Monroe
Excellent last line! I feel the same...almost guilty...when I see these people. What separates us from them anyway?

Very nice piece...kudos!