Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Whither


I had seen him working like a slave
Yet he found it hard to keep going
Struggling for the two square meals
He seldom relied on other people
Except for being given work to him
That was necessity for his survival
He was often abused or underpaid
In spite of delivering the good work
He thought he had no rights at all
No one care when he had no work
Unaware of the benefit schemes
Run by governments in his name
There was some whisper at times
That he is being looked at by state
But he saw always was clean slate
People trying words and meaning
From where it lacked any scribbling
He had laughter with a whimper
Smile with full of agony and pain
He guessed that elections declared
Many people now were by his side
As if the momentary celebrations
Withering away of attention again
Whither the uplifting of the poor?
Before he was given hard jobs to do
To struggle even harder all alone
Forgotten after the election fervor
And thus his life goes on and on
Unsung, unheard till next elections!

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