Little Beggar

As I stood by the road
munching on the snacks
I felt a tug on my arm
by a little child in rags

I determined to ignore it
and decided to look away
but avoid could not the pleading
as its constant gaze upon me lay

In me arose a surge of pity
as I turned to my friend
to elicit a kind word or such
in light of this dreadful trend

He didn’t seem too bothered
or just couldn’t care less
I wondered at his aloofness
with the society in this frightful mess

I rebuked him for his indifference
and he looked at me horrified
taken aback by the expression he cast
I inquired what his reaction implied

“My dear friend, I am sorry to say
that you don’t seem to have an idea
this social mess that you declare
is indeed part of a begging mafia”

“Professional beggars, babies on rent,
locations, commissions and promotion
drugs, exploitation and amputation
just to stir a rich man’s emotion”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t care
even if the child continues to stare
‘coz I would not in hell even
my money with a mafia share”

It was my turn to be horrified
but I could not help but wonder
by driving away one person in real need
would we not be making a blunder?

I turned to the begging child
its beseeching eyes moist and cold
my thoughts seeking to discover
horrid secrets that they might hold

The pain of separation

When the dawn breaks
the sun shines down
the wall of brightness
brings the darkness down


But I feel empty
that something is absent
I wonder why am not happy
in this wonderful moment


It was I who broke away
It was I who dismissed you
Is it strange that now I wonder
Is it strange that I miss you