Poem # 4: THE BEGGAR

In the streets of nowhere,
Dwells a soul among the soulless,
With a stifled wish to ease elsewhere,
Like a prince in a fortress,

‘What about life at present?’
He realizes on a gelid dawn,
‘My life is an unpleasant present’,
A tear, in his begging bowl, rolls down,

His misery grows along the day,
But no hand stretches to caress,
To make him smile and gay,
At this hour of prolonged distress,

Only one seems to have interest.
“Sir! What do you wish?”
“Attention, applause and trust”,
And he flips a coin in his metal dish.

Away from the streets of nowhere,
When he gets up to call it a day,
A black cat from elsewhere,
Intercepts his way.

Love,
Abdullah Zaman Babar