Make Some Room Poem by Moh Ishu

Vast, indigent, and cruel, being;
Submerging these mute foundlings
Deceiving the ages, composing his drone
Life—a recluse of the forlorn.
For as mere oddities, listed out
They ask no questions, yet conceal their doubts;
With jibes engulfing the feeble heart.
From these clutches, unable
To engender new rays of hope—
Snided at is their zeal, their visions gagged.
A little would do of compassion and care
Reviving back the shine of dews
To be borne are these refugees
In our hearts, chime their pleas;
Need they be thrown away to relapse
Or stomped on till slander?
Rather confuted paths to wander.
Paving ways to stand upright,
Lending a hand to these humble creations
Silks and rags will prevail, yet we share same footprints
Only some time needs to be made
Make some room, before they fade.