Friday, July 10, 2015

The Eyes Of The Poor Are Windowpanes




broken doors
of her cosmic fate
her future held in
rusty chains
calm composed
in her penury
she remains
her hijab totally
torn badly stained
for her eid is just
another day filled
with pain no new
clothes for her children
no money to buy meat
vermicelli ..she wont
complain.. she will be
busy standing outside
the mosque begging
hoarsely after the eid
namaz ..tears going
down the drain...
being born a muslim
beggar is worse than
humiliating death
a thought ingrained

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