A Poor Man's Paradise (2) (Trash Is Cash) . Poem by U Win Kyi

Filling in the air is disgusting smell.
Stray dogs, cats and rats are everywhere.
The crows are flying to and fro.
The place is swarmed by flies and mosquitoes.
This is where we live....a trash dumping land-fill,
from which our hungry stomach could get filled.
We look for discarded plastic bags,
some expired canned food, metal scrap,
any re-usable things and old newspaper,
We are working there as scavenger.
We wash the dirty things in nearby stream water.
Then we sell them to dealer of recycles,
who would make them into disposable eating utensils,
or beautiful toys which would bring to kids a great thrill.

Poverty begets poverty.
We can't get out of this bottomless misery.
Our lives are so miserable.
We want our lives recycled,
according to Karma Wheel,
so that our pain could get healed.

One man's trash is another man's treasure,
so true for us, it is no wonder.
This place is our paradise.
Without it we can't survive.