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.
Hiire Ivan is a Ugandan Writer, Poet and Blogger.

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