An Indian Poor Girl Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

She has nothing to complain
Whether she gets food or not,
No grudge or grievance,
Is complacent with what she has
Much or less.

The hut is her home,
The date-leaf mat her bed,
The muddy floor her place
Attached with a cow-shed and a kitchen
With an earthen oven
Smoking and fuming.

She has nothing to eat,
Food stuff as kept in the house,
The stale food her breakfast,
She does not cook for two times,
Just at midday or at eve
While after returning from day work.

Tea is not in her lot
As she cannot afford to take it
Or continue with the drinking habit,
The rags her bed sheet,
The lamp does not burn at night,
The house remains dark
Telling the tales of poverty, illiteracy,
Backwardness and underdevelopment.