A Rag Picker Poem by Sameer Ahsan

A child, just thirteen!
I saw him rag picking,
Kneeling down every step two or three
Unwrapping the wonders in hurry
Among the wasted food of rich and plastic bags
To what we say rags.

Self-employed at tenderest age
His working place mountain of garbage,
Where he stride from one end to the other
Refills bag, hanging on his shoulder,
And wears a shirt, long; below knees
A white, now turned black with hundred crease.

Bones of his; pushing against the skin
Look him very lean and thin;
Far, far away from riches revel
His world; without charm and zeal,
Perhaps covered with the blanket of woes
Lack of basic necessities and deep sorrows.


At the age of schooling and care free playing
For the stomach’s sake he strolls,
From the day break till the night fall,
And nobody cares of his gloom and doom
That in the spring, time for a flower to bloom.

In the country he lives is such a nation
Where government promises compulsory education,
Child labor, equivalent to a crime!
Despite, millions are just in the work of same kind,
And still we project, a child friendly nation
Ignoring their tears and desperate situation.