Pauper's Poem Poem by Neela Nath Das

The pauper was picking used
papers, plastic bottles, wrappers
in a big sack, laughing silently
or sometimes clapping with joy.
His poverty made him insane.
The pedestrians cast their look,
the man gave a sharp shook as if
to say- Yes, what you think of me,
I'm just that, not your cup of tea.
Suddenly, the paper-picker discovered
three pieces of bread in the bin.
Perhaps, it was from a well-fed house....
Taking it too close to his nose
he smelt its freshness.
It was good for the poor.
He was about to gobble it up,
a mad-guy appeared on the scene.
He stretched his hand.
The pauper feed him with
mother's care.
Both were mad.
The pedestrians were
sane
totally!