The naked beggar crawled to the street,
And gazed straight ahead and raised his fist.
Then complained the Gods for originating the sin,
Of creating the Earth, God’s massive dustbin
He ate the food, which even flies threw
And round and round they hovered and flew.
His hunger was here, and it was there
His hunger was all around this sphere


Today he is weaker than he was yesterday
He is getting fainter with the passage of each day
With no food for his lunch and evening supper
He can walk but with frequent stumble
His throat is parched, his lips runs dry
Tears of pain showered through his eye
He crossed his arms and kept them close
And crawled towards the rivers shore


In the sole battle with his ephemeral life
This poor man had prematurely died
For this world is the dome of strife
Where the edge of poverty is sharper than the knife
The bait of honeyed words hides the hook
And the stone cold heart deceives the look
He now have difficulty in crawling his foot
Once tallest amongst them all, he used to stood


He is thirsty but nothing can quench his thirst
He is lost in his own world of uncertain burst
He is poor because some are extreme rich
And they don’t care, how the others would live.
His eyes are deeper and much darker than the abyss
In the depth of his eyes, I foresee some burning hate
That is swirling round and round like the waters of lake,
Where the whirlpool in the middle is the principal fake


His hairs are entirely hoary along with his old age
Though we are free, he is living in a narrow cage
For he is poor, and he doesn’t belong in this stage,
Where false glitter of wealth baffles even the Sunny rays
He looked, and saw ample expanse stretch
Before him- towns, and municipal thrill in between
Cities of men with snooty gates and towers
And concourse in arms idly greed stood


Beyond all past example and future
Much burden, heavier than the earth to bear
Of all the corruption, human greed satisfied never
Development stands cursed and nation torment from fever
The poor old man is loved not by a single soul
Yet men reach the temple and bribe the God
But they don’t care for this old man, who is living God,
Where are the humans to put ointment in his wound?


The tears of pain from the old mans eye flew
All over his body cataclysmic from the constant flu
Alone he stood still, skirmishing with life every second
Since we have forgotten that old people, were once young
And they are old today cause we don’t hear their song
Let us not forget that today we are young
But tomorrow certainly we will grow old
Hey, life is not worth living if we don’t have some one to hold.



Copyright 2002 Bhuwan Thapaliya

LET US LOVE OLD AND POOR PEOPLES CAUSE THEY ARE OUR HISTORY…. SO LET US NOT FORGET THAT HISTORY WILL REPEAT ITSELF…. SO IF WE DON’T LOVE THESE PEOPLES, THE COMING GENERATION ALSO WILL TREAT US LIKE WE TREAT OUR ELDER GENERATION….LET US GIVE LOVE AND CARE TO THESE PEOPLE CAUSE BECAUSE OF THEM WE ARE HERE….HOW FOOLISH WE ARE TO IGNORE OUR OWN CREATOR…..THEY DON’T NEED ANYTHING EXPENSIVE FROM US….ALL THEY NEED IS LITTLE BIT OF LOVE AND CARE FROM US….FOR THEM THIS GOES A LONG WAY….PERSONALLY SPEAKING NOTHING GIVES ME SATISFACTION THAN SEEING THE SMILE ON THE FACE OF POOR AND ELDERLY PEOPLE…..AND IF WE WANT WE CAN FOREVER SEE THIS IN THEIR FACE.