I saw a man yesterday
And his condition give me a brief foray
For I was at once tempted to think about him and his likes
That roam around begging around cars and bikes
Their grim face
Left behind in this fast pace
Their unkempt hair
Potraying life had not been fair
Seeking rats eyes
Finding honey in house of flies
Their dried ashes mouth
The pain grievance they eagerly shout
Their hard, black, tan ,muddy skin like a broken tile
Parched more than that of a crocodile
Their vertebrae bent ,almost protruding out
Sharing the fate of a trout
Now their naked bodies
Clothes, a word so foggy
Their hands or is should say only arms that too for some
Remain on their shackled head weighed down by problems lump
Their twisted bones and bent knees
Worst than that of bees
Their feet chiseled by sharp stones
Accustomed to bear the pressure alone
No place to live , no place to call their own
And no food , to dread their bone
Their thoughts have lost their mind being numb
They move in this perpertual maze of the poverty's hump
Years come by years go by
But they live the life in a constant sigh
For a man who has walked on Bing
He has to fear nothing
Dried in heat shivered in cold
Making them strong and bold
Their future their future misty rusty foggy
Doomed forever by winds so gusty ...
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