My Slipping Ground Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

Pity what, on the periphery born,
Marginal life, where they cut the throats,
Adobed living, ambulate the camel's tie,
There is no excuse, now, when in world,
Or to the best of places, best of schools,
With the ones who on the campus reads.

If not your squalor, you are no lame
If you are not equal now, the probability,
That you have wasted an equal opportunity,
On your fall, don't bemoan, don't blame others.

My slipping ground, beneath my feet,
Is like sinking sand, either I swim, or go,
But to you, let me say, it is your own doing
And thus the collective guilt,
Put off the shoulder, the decisiveness of,
Fate may recall, and the great nature's doing,

Or poverty hinder, those who up there,
Blind to times and not let the visions drop,
And if they don't, to their troubles address,
Generations born, but nowhere to go,
No jobs to do, no ideas worth espouse,
But for most, there is no excuse,
For the boomers are, gradually millennials.

Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
January 12,2016.