See
them, with revolving sockets so dry,
head
too big with scraggy necks,
flatulent
sickly protruding bellies,
grey
hair at tender age,
unkempt and stylishly dreaded,
thin arms that expose all the junctures
and
streams of their veins and arteries,
creatures
whose cravings are,
not to appear in tatters and rags,
that
but evident of their poor background
and
absence of one to lift their shoulders
each
time weariness may come to them to dwell,
the
miseries and pains of these victims
keep
on portending
the
untrammeled biases
hidden
in creatures.
Indeed,
their plea, a passionate one
that
they may dine with the kings and queens,
the
best privileged to be seen,
a
moment of joy and relief,
a
dream daily expected
that they may gladly smile with their fellow
and
enjoy their gifted existence.
Then,
ask not to know them,
be calm and see them all over,
roving
on our streets,
roaming
around our homes,
crying beside our tables,
pleading for a drop from our spoons
that
they may regain strengths
to battle the dramas of life
which
unfold with no mercy.
Then,
let us offer favour to whom we can
especially
the helpless orphans, widows and the marginalized
for they often see us as kings and queens
who
can heal their painful wounds.
