The Ragpicker Poem by Raj Arumugam

There's a walk, I walk from place to place
dark alleys or bright public streets
though I keep indistinct, and am invisible anyway
for people rather look at pretty things,
sweet nothings, shiny things

But rags or discarded things, or worn out
and unwanted things, loved and now thrown out
(or maybe never needed, even at the start)
these things catch my eye
and I might scavenge and pick at them
like rats might attack a food pile


You with your sweet lives, your enchanted lives
might want to turn away,
pretend I don't exist -
that suits me though
for nothing catches my eye
but throwaways

If I can have my pick
unquestioned, unnoticed, ignored
and I can have a thing or two,
a few maybe,
I have had my day

Thank you
and I'll be on my way