THE STORY OF DESTITUTE

By Prabal Das

The rain and tears merged in den hell,

Poor in the orifice forgot the spell.

And when the cloud reached the earth,

And the fat cats without the girth.

They are not the bloke in the shoe,

They are the decider for the view.

And the pores seem to be closing,

The remains remain in posing.

But a clop seems to be oriented,

And like ancient, hearts of greats are rented.

But a boy from the murky has heard that,

Ran towards the fat sitting with a hat.

Shaved naked head full of the power,

stripling seeing the process of the devour.

Augmenting the tiny heart with burning truth,

Society turned to be deranged and ruth.

Neonates, peace to the pieces of heart,

Dame steals the shelter with blood on the part.

Destitute father wailing, the deaf man smile,

The boy is growing in vein to walk a mile.

To reach the fat man who annihilates the land.

Years of oppression, can people stand?

But fire quenched and I am in dark,

Let the boy survive the eventide and be the spark.

By Prabal Das