The outlook is bleak …and the sky grey.
My mind as jaded as my Life’s fray.
My boarded tenement has sprung a leak.
Respite from the onslaught of rain I seek.
But there is no where to go , not a corner dry
My tired heart does not even let out a resigned sigh.
Today it is rain, yesterday it was hunger.
My lowly birth has made me devoid of anger.
Since I am born to it , my hunger I do bear
Of just gnawing pain , why should I care?
Come rain come sun, whatever the season
Poverty has never ever committed treason.
To my mother I have been as good a son I could.
To my best ability, by my children I stood.
My wife , now she used to be good to me
Till one day I turned up after a drunken spree.
I think of my son, now soon to be eight .
Of my older daughter and her teenage gait.
But my daughter of ten is the apple of my eye.
Can make me smile even when I want to cry.
On this dull afternoon, through my stupor I can see
Poverty, hunger and my wife all three mocking me .
As light at the end , my death I do not see
Just means to end it all , and set us all so free .
They washed my stomach and tried to drain
The insecticide but what of all this pain ?
Breathing so feebly under an oxygen mask
I lay subconsciously assessing Life’s daunting task.
Mother brother sisters children all now shed a tear
Cries copiously , my daughter , favorite and dear.
The quagmire of Poverty will suck them in, sure and fast.
Soon a mere indistinct memory , I’ll fade into the past.
Follow the fly ridden open drain down the road
Till you come up to a dank and dilapidated abode.
Where despite the squalor they are toasting a new Life
One more to share and bear the cross of never ending strife.
With all my soul I had wished and wished
This Life of penury and desolation finished.
But oh this never ending soul searing pain
For O Heartless God , I have been born again.