The United Beggars by Nii Lane

Its the morning dusts that welcomes us, as we get ready for today’s work we hear you discuss,In our humble coats we spread our ugly mats. Our faces we refuse to display so we cover it with our crafty hats .With our palms we seek desperately for your assistance, without you we will wink out of existence, The hot scorching has forcefully become our companion, And the streets the old truck side has become our mansion.

Our children in their best rags follow you like pests,they careless for shelter but only what they will digest, At the end of our days work we gather and tell tales of the street faces how troubled and disturbed, we tell in every detail.

Day to day we have cultivated an habit to gaze,so don’t look at us with pity or disgust,For our creator our destiny we beg him to adjust, Hopefully one day with a fulfilled heart we would die and become dust.

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