As the dawn breaks in beckoning a whole new day,
A shackled life searches for a way to exist,
The eternal firmament, seems, but a dusk of gray,
The soothing air, just a demented, grisly mist.
Sprouting of green leaves never happen in my life;
To imagine of tomorrow, hurts like one beastly pointed knife!
Lying by the side of the roads, inhaling dusty smokes,
With just a shattered gown to warm the soul,
These eyes gaze at speeding cars & busy people-my only hopes,
As I prepare myself for another battle, holding the blessed bowl.
Spits, abuses & awkward stares will be hurled at me,
Yet, I cannot, but plead with clasped hands, help this rusted body.
Sometimes a note, sometimes a clinking coin enriches my pot,
Sometimes a vicious kick leaves an agonizing black spot;
This has been my life through all these years & more,
As I’ve experienced countless internal uproars.
My identity is not a human, but a beggar,
And though you say, “I care for you”, you’ll despise me forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem