Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
He comes in the homes of our vicinity
In particular days in the weeks I remember
May be a Tuesday or Friday
He is a beggar a neglected human being
With despair and emotionless facial expression
Still we know he is a human being having feels
Showing his open hand or small pot
For getting the alms in such mercy of kindness
The poor man never asks anything to eat
Or never asked a cloth for his wear
Still we know he was a son of a kind mother
Where he got affection and breastfeed.
His face was full of black spots and wrinkles
Eyes were expressing depressed feeling
Non one is supposed to care the poor fellow
Still we know he is a human being related to us.
No hopes are there for a best future
No hopes for a better life
No hopes for regular meals, wash and wear
Still he continues his journey as a beggar.
None is serious in such matters of rehabilitation
Other than showing accusing fingers on poor fellows
Sometimes even accusing them as real thieves
Which have no basis of evidence at all.
The society must awake for a revival on charity
They must provide facilities for the failed ones
In fact there own plights are the creation of society
Rise to the occasion and give them some hopes
Is the solution what the Public have to do.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Hopeless by Gangadharan nair Pulingat.. )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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