My Fellows

Early in the morning And till late night, They play cards, And return to their homes, When they were drunk. They are feeling free, They never thought, About their children, About their wives, And how do they run cooking? They wore dirty clothes, They sat near dirty hoops, Sun arises and sets, They turn as a tree shadow, Made a circle around them. Who comes to their homes? Why children left their education, Why daughters has curb carolling, A gamble, smoking and drinking, They have main function to live. If someone comes to them, And offers a job, they still play, They made many excuses, They are not feeling well, Someone is coming to them. Who will remove their poverty? They are not the part of a world, Every five years when election comes, They drink alcohol and cast their votes, Then they asleep for next five years. I am one of them, who believes me, I watch their routinely activities, Trying to organise them, Few days they took notice, And again they joined card groups. They borrow smoke and alcohol, They borrow money and quarrels When someone fails to return them. They forget their matters, When they set together to drink. Years after years, centuries had passing, They have no change, they are my fellows. Poverty is sucking their blood, Ignorance is loading them cruelity, Their movements are still burning quietly