A Handicapped Beggar By The Street Poem by Md. Ziaul Haque

Alas! There he is,
The crestfallen beggar in his thirties,
Lying by the street,
Whom none ever cares to greet.

He has lost a hand and two legs,
As if a tree with no leaves and begs,
Perhaps it was written,
Before he was born.

He doesn't bother,
About the excruciating high temperature,
Of the sun,
Nor even the rain.

Since he has a stomach, unruly,
He must beg on a daily,
I wish I could translate his feelings,
To know what he actually thinks!

Perhaps he begs ‘death' daily,
From the Almighty,
Perhaps he wants not to die at all,
The world is beautiful after all!