Begging for a life

My eyes pour out and words all fail,

When I see the plight of this Indian lot,

Whose day starts when the world is dreaming,

And ends long after the sun goes out,

Weak and dirty they walk the street,

Begging  for a coin of life all day,

Searching for lunch in the trash,

In blind hope of making some hay,

Pleading outside the palace of gods,

Hungry, abused, get chased away,

The god is bathing in the milk,

Insulting their hunger, every day,

Days, months and years roll by,

The world may change but life is hell,

Outside those lavish shopping malls,

Standing wearing a putrid smell,

Comes the minister, ribbon’s cut,

They sleep under those bridges high,

Ignored by the growth we see,

They stand right in front of our eyes,

And heartless, cowards we have become,

Flip a coin and pat our self,

At every corner life is crying,

But we only feel sympathy for them.