Enforced Stupor and Torpor

A coterie of unschooled children in tow A blind woman shambles from street to street Stretching an emaciated hand in a row Hoping a coin her kitty will greet From impoverished passersby Who tighten belts to breaking point Restraining a famine cry In an exclamation joint That begs for progress Hoping against hope The blind undergo less stress As dark thoughts crop Up wondering why fate So often unfair Hates the pate In which brains fare Badly at the bottom of the pyramid Where mosquitoes Mistake them for a hominid Bereft of tomatoes For which they long But can’t afford Cos their pockets aren’t strong Enough to jump on board The tomato malady From which urban dwellers suffer Shady, ready already Succour them relief can’t offer As a coin drops into the extended hand Eliciting a thank you From a blessor who can’t understand The humility that greets him anew In a cut-throat World that reviles the poor Whose threadbare coat And spoor swim in enforced stupor and torpor.