A building high above the speedy
Busy vehicles of mindless drive.
It was built to serve as safety
For citizens; to be their hive.
This building bears feets of thousands
who never dare to cross a road.
And has been the home of hundreds
Who hold their bowls that seem to bode.
Along its path, I saw a lady
Beside a man whose wounds were raw,
As her bug-infested blouse scurried
Away flies from her stenching jaw.
Her face pale, her hair was unkempt,
And her bowl she placed down to reap,
While a boy a girl she carried
Cradling their infant heads to sleep.
She dared all singing a true ode
To past living of blissful gains,
And a dirge of teary feelings
To current dawn of lifeless pains.
These had won the souls of many
As she smiled at sound of coins thrown.
While she prayed for souls of blankness
For her eyes blast of life has blown.
Her ready smiles had won her friends
And has worked to attract a soul.
Her infants’ cries helped to unleash
Pregnant kindness upon her bowl.
In this way she seemed more happy
And this spur a gladness in me.
No sooner I had a feeling
When my gladness was made to flee.
My mind raced back to last night news:
‘In two days’, the minister said.
‘We will clean this state off nuisance;
All beggars we shall put to bed.’
I fought hard to hold my tears back
As tomorrow she never know
That her smiles will attract nothing
Even blessings humans may show.
The cries of her tender children
will have no bond against a soul.
And her odes and dirges daring
Will have no coins to fill her bowl.