Beggars
Some where like a homeless child My heart is crying in the cold It is still raining outside am told And back to the blanket I fold My arms and legs on bed I pity the beggars on the streets Helter-skelter they run What happened to the ten point program at down? The truth is dark under our eyelids The birds are silent,there is no one to ask The senior beggars are harvesting bags As the Juniors carry rags People are furious The mood is serious And I am curious Why are there trenches at home? Is the one question I pose.