Platform Ticket Please! - Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

To sell your spoiled curd rice,
Don't use the Indian railways,
Half of our people are dirt poor,
And our government is even poorer,
Thousands of humble stations,
In various directions, millions,
Of passenger squat and travel,
Thousands of kilometers,
Using the filthy toilets
Regularly sanitized with cheap,
Phenols, our trains seldom,
Reach the destination,
On the scheduled time,
People may be stacked,
As the bundles of vegetables,
Mostly not misbehaved,
in the train or in the stations,
As the pride of the family,
Is the only ornament to the deprived,
If twelve year olds give birth,
It will be the national news,
Really not a everyday occurrence.