Poverty A Curse

Torn clothes, shabby hair like wild shrub
Flower like hands knocking each window, of the stationary rich lavish cars.
Hunger in eyes, waiting for a SAVIOUR to come for help.


Broken spectacle tell the story of their misery.
The curse which has sadly fallen on them.

I helpless willing to help, still can't help
Feeling as if my brother and sister standing for my help
Cursing my self for not giving a hand to them



Searching for the solution of curse
Endless thoughts coming up
Atlast i found, one hand can't help
Thousand hands together will remove the curse