City of Paupers
You name it ‘the city of dreams’, I m alien to this city
Such an enigmatic crowd, paupers full of versatility
This isn’t an account on beggars, I m not here to preach
Just amazed how varied ways of begging are adopted by each
Some pinch their infants and make those innocent souls weep
Some victim to physical violence, those wounds so deep
With messed up hair, gloomy look and a torn soiled sari
She would skillfully mint money from every new Ferrari
Some charming kids dancing on the beats of hit Bollywood numbers
Some play instruments listening to which every mind slumbers
Some holy angels shower their blessings on you
Some question your humanity, humans are left so few
And paupers like you and me, fall prey to their plead
Lending just a rupee, to our poverty that won’t lead
With these poor sentiments, we paupers are born
A rupee leads to another and the show goes on…
Copyright © Neha Godambe | Year Posted 2012
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