CURSE OF POVERTY
Blessed are usTo have roof on our head
With clothes on our back
And food to be fed
Walking down the street
I saw a man
Lying on my path
With filthy hands
In scorching heat
In heat which can melt the skin
There was no kith or kin
To look after him
He opened his mouth
I saw some broken teethes
He stood on the soily floor
That could have matched his dirty feet
With shirt half torn
He must be cursing the moment
When he was born
Yes! He is cursed
Cursed by poverty
Curse of poverty
I looked into his eyes
Endless emotions I observed
As endless as sky
He didn't want anything from me
Looking deeper I see,
A frozen wall in his eyes
One side vast sentiments
On other utter disappointment
Flies all over him
Wounds covering his skin
Eyes observing everything
Maybe searching for a thing
Maybe its kindness
Maybe its respect
Maybe its love he wants
How was I supposed to guess?
They say sufferings make you a better human being
If that is so my eyes have Jesus Christ seen
Yes! He is cursed
Cursed by poverty
Curse of poverty
My eyes lingered on his face
Which was as calm as of a sage
Because there was nothing to lose
And of course nothing to gain
His eyes met mine
He sighed
He looked away
I wonder why
I took a step towards him
He stared at me
With eyes continuously popping
He was trying to convey something
Maybe it was a warning
Maybe it was aggression
But I only noticed fear's ocean
I retraced my steps
I stared at 'their' faces
Nobody gives a damn
Even if he is flattened by a tank
He was a wild thing
Yet he was exiled
In the pain of poverty
In insane poverty
Poetry by Anshul Sharma
Read 836 times
Written on 2007-08-13 at 06:42
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