The Discarded Poem by Charnjit Patialvi

The Discarded

With the wandering eyes,
Seeing towards the skies,
Waiting endlessly for a heeling touch,
Touch of humanity , a warmth of mother's hug,
Which remain eluded,
Before the start end is concluded,
Seeking a possible answer to the waging question,
Why was I born and discarded?
From where did I come?
Why did the ‘Civilized' - Abandoned,
Was my birth an experiment I wonder?
By the God may be…..?
Or was it a burden disposed I never know,

‘Innocent' they call me yet like criminal they treat,
Homeless I wander, through streets,
And roads all leading to nowhere,
Hatred and scorn is all I beget.,
The dirty looks scanning my soul,
As if a worm out of gutter,
Hungry, frightened and bullied,
Even traumatized, teased and cheated I feel.

Struggling for bits of food I strive,
Searching from left overs in streets,
From the ‘Eveing Bash' of the riches,
Hiding from the drowsy eyes of bullies,
like a prowl on a mission,
stretching my feeble hands in the waste bins,
Stumbling over the wasted lot.
I and stray canines share the spot.
Finding some bits to calm the burn of hunger.

Putting the rags on from shivering cold,
More I cover more they reveal,
At times get some oversized to don,
Still happy to find a lot,
Roaming in the chilling winters,
sharing the dens and food with my best friend,
I find him faithful but still like me, discarded.

I heard some say Man is Kind,
Yeah I find him a special kind, wild creature,
the most powerful, merciless and dreadful indeed,
Yet afraid of new born?
Throws their new born to die,
But the beasts never discard their young,
Till their last breaths of course,
Still we are wise.
We are the ‘Masters' in this world.
We have a choice to do the wrongs,
And still call overselves kind and civilized.