An Ode To Poverty - Poem by MATLOOB BUKHARI

Matloob Bokhari

In my land, plenty of poor live in pain,
In baking heat, languish in sad disdain.
In gnawing hunger; no choice but to endure.
Drink dirty water; weeping go to sleep.
In the hovel of clay, have no lamp.
In the light of stars, naked kids play.
Infants too weak; in silent sobs depart.
O poorest of the poor, waiting in vain.
No rescuer will come to address your woes.
Feudal, mullah, peer in palaces only pray.
O ill-starred multitudes, in slavish chain,
Not Nature but leaders are to blame.
O my friend, O the brightest star in sky,
All wrongs are done by the dearest words,
Rise to light a candle of hope in their way.

Topic(s) of this poem: POVERTY

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Poem Submitted: Friday, May 2, 2014

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