Lesser Children Of God Poem by Chandra Shekhar Dubey

We walk around red lights, pavements
Metro stops in rough and fine weather
Carrying our bulging bags like boiling
Carbuncles on our bodies all in hope of two bare meals.
Pitiless gazes, venomous spits
greet us every morning
As we sell incense sticks, mopes,
hot glossy magazines
To our unwilling clients all in hope of two bare meals.
They say begging is sin
so we beg to sell running behind
Speeding cars, creaking auto rickshaws of hunger, ailing sister
and their gods.
In drowsy winter morning, as they, prepare their children for school
We prepare for road crossings, red lights with pangs of hasty hunger, chasing dream of two bare meals.
We envy their colourful school uniforms, satchel, water bottles
While racing with stray brooding dogs to work sites.
The day sprawls over busy roads
of overfed city.
With snail's pace against speeding cars, buses and bikes.
We beg them to buy our old items all in hope of two bare meals..
Some buy, others feel angry at us
hurling silver coins, empty beer canes, leftovers, glossy wafer packets with gummy eyes.
Waxed lovely faces, shrinking
In the sleeve of their paramours
In the rear seat of waxed speedy cars bathed in city's light
Measure our helplessness with their merciless compassion
As we wade through bone journey to relapse in the darkness of our tunnels, rookies and dwelling yards beyond the sunrise.
In dream, we see the bread
Climbing slowly like full moon
In the deep sky with moans, babbles of voices
On clamorous roads.
We dream bare two meals;
We are lesser Children of their God.
Chandra Shekhar Dubey