Out casted by the living
and drawn towards being dead,
he lies on the footpath
with a hope that some vehicle
would run over and relieve him of all pain.
He wears filthy clothes which stink of garbage.
A copper bowl serves his existence.
With eyes speaking his misery
his body bears a sorry picture of leprosy.
You will find such folks
wandering in the city streets
where the able pass by such living corpses.
Some feel that a rupee can lessen their pain
But all they need is love
all they need is care
and a healthy life again.
But we fail ...