Go To Next Door Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

'Go to next door'
Shouted neighbor
The man was poor
With pitiful eyes standing on floor

It is disgusting to note
Equally not noble to float
And idea to feel some soft corner
To rush to poor as sympathizer

Many able body persons
Resort to begging for unknown reasons
May be an easy way to enjoy life
Without worry, tension or strife

New born babies are taken on hire
We look at them and but show no desire
To help in any way as they follow you
Take all patience out and displeasure passes through

Poor are of many kinds in high class too
At the end of month they turn poor to be true
Almost all sources dry up and they remain penniless
Question comes up as how to cope up and face no chase

Even powerful nations turn poor on faulty planning
Limitless spending and overstretched plans need scanning
Over night their currency falls below grade and sink
Much below expectation and nation is even starved to drink

Poverty of any kind is just unimaginable
It stands there at the door with all the troubles
Individuals and nations struggle to ward of crisis
Ways and means are pressed into service with more emphasis