A Handless Beggar Poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai

On the footpath of a fast and vast road
A scene cut my heart like a hard quick sword
Into countless pieces my heart scattered
For a moment i was cut off from my horde.

A handless man was sitting still and calm
For help, the wrists were stretched out
But the wound was to remain without balm
From the game of life he was entirely out.

All his misries I could not imagine
The horn were making all it a mockery
I couldn't offer a response genuine
Vast distance was between letchery and misery.

Instead of offering I got something
That the man has not been defeated yet
How staunch is the humble man's reasoning
Who has put to rout life's fever and fret..

With hands I can do, no doubt, a lot
One day I will be able to change my lot
I should not weep on my fate's plot
I must be energetic in life and hot.