Set against the backdrop of the raging pandemic of 2020 - COVID-19, this piece, “Destitute” tries to capture the cries and sorrows of the working class as they struggle to find food and water.
I stage not the fear in my eye
I wage not a penny from a lie
But defenseless as I pass by
Impotent and vulnerable, am I?
“Cannot afford a cup of chai”,
“A destitute” they name my cry,
Penniless as there I lie
Will roti and rice touch the sky?
Home seems too distant,
For I cannot fare the ferry.
Relief has always been non-existent
To my life of boundless worry.
As I sit shattered on the land where
once I ran errands all day and night,
I see my roofless abode dark in sight
As even the Sun won’t spread its light.
I bear the mark of my uphill battle
But how do I bear the scar
Of watching my hungry family
eat through the empty kettle?
In an effort to make them smile
and feed their empty stomachs only for a while,
Dear privileged,
Can I borrow from your stockpile?
Innumerous cameras capture my cry
But it shall sustain for only a minute in their eye.
Now the clock seems to be ringing bells, ask why?
For a new life I shall endure to buy.
Even if all world’s hope I unify,
Hungry and voiceless I shall die.
As my unanswered questions tower the sky
Prepare to bid me an unanticipated goodbye.