ONE POOR INDIAN
He played in the salt water where he dipped like lotus
He kicked and marched in mom’s womb
He is the POOR INDIAN
It is the time for his birth in the new world
It take many labour pains for his first breath
It make his mother cry to deliver him
He is the POOR INDIAN
Hut is filled with three women
One is old and fragile eyed
Other is rusty nature and his mother is third
He is the POOR INDIAN
He is taken by colony scavengers
And moved every hut-to-hut as a new guest
The oil lamps are weaker by his charm and smile
He is the POOR INDIAN
He grew day by day to young age
He dwell with others on seashore
His treasure box which contain seashells was looted
Alas! It is taken by someone who came to buy
He is the POOR INDIAN
He daily play’s hide -seek, rich and poor
He enter into street fights as a competitor for food
He beg near temples,mosques,churches,bar,shops
He is the POOR INDIAN
When winds are bringing music from high buildings
When decorative lamps shed their light on his home
When cold breeze brings the dreams of princes
He sleeps on shiny sand dunes ,as a flower
He is the POOR INDIAN
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