My shirt too is a shade of green
It lacks the perk and glitzy sheen
Wish I'cd wash and do a preen
The stripes on it are a lovely hue
Why I wonder, it wasn't my due
Why is it available to just a few?
I too walk the same brick street
Rosy cheeks and tender my feet
Why the trash can is my beat
Just as I touched a parked bike
The owner rushed in to strike
Much less own I can't even like
Many a times I passed this shop
The vendor won't allow me a stop
Faintly sigh and my brow I mop
Someone! Throw, just such a shirt
Oh! Will I be able to clean the dirt?
Shall I never be weaned from hurt?
original.
22 sep,2k12.
Islamabad.
wonderful poetry, my favourite lines are ''The stripes on it are a lovely hue Why I wonder, it wasn't my due Why is it available to just a few? ''
You brought the street rag picker's mind, full of wishes into your lines. Good work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderful poetry , my best lines are'' The stripes on it are a lovely hue Why I wonder, it wasn't my due Why is it available to just a few? ''