Swapan Deep Singh
He Did Die That Very Day - Poem by Swapan Deep Singh
It rained, the slab of cement cracked;
The weak slab of cement, the grave of a king shrieked;
And he did die that very day,
No song, no flowers, no homage did anyone pay.
But he did die that very day;
The day a beggar died;
But there was song, were flowers, and homage did everyone pay.
And the beggar’s grave did not crack or shout;
But withstood the rain throughout.
The king was a respected man, a real kingly man;
Was rich, was proud, a fearless man.
But greed, cruelty and a haughty nature;
Had engulfed this meager creature;
And made him poor in the eyes of the village.
But the beggar, although destitute, without privilege;
Was good and kind and wise and serene;
And thus was he rich, not rude or mean.
What had the king earned? Nothing!
He did not carry along anything.
But left behind bitter memories and an unpleasant impression.
However, the beggar, in an opposite fashion;
Left behind a legacy of benevolence and truth.
No body is rich or poor after death.
All die the same way;
Clad in white cloth and burnt away.
He did die that very day.
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