PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

begging in the streets, she looked at me

was it for food or was it for money

i dont know but deep down in her eyes

i saw the despair the world left for her.

Once a daughter, A sister

Then a wife ,A mother,But

then with time they leaving her one by one

to be all alone in a corner

red with stains of gutka and pan

She held her close a rug, probably

the only kindness she found in this cold world

I bent over to give a coin in her hands

then suddenly she held my hands all tight

I felt the grip so firm

like she was drowning and my hands were the last hope

but who am i,If not just an illustration of the rest

The Cruel, harsh,and selfish world

I left her into the depths and walked away

I sure have felt sympathy for her

But  my sympathy wont feed her nor

it give her warmth in winter

I reckon finally the world has created in me

A mind which knows only to sympathise

but not to help,