Friday, 9 March 2012

And Decides to Scavenge

And decides to scavenge.

With a plait in matted and hazel hair,
She comes to the coach in tatter,
With a broom, she begins wiping the floor,
Your left over, that you proudly litter.
In a quarter of an hour, floor shines,
Without any peels, wrappers and everything.

But when she begs a coin,
With a pair of eyes craving,
As if you’re uncouth,
Flows rubbishes from your mouth.

Think how clumsily you travel,
As if you love to sit on sand and gravels.
Why not behave yourself,
Refrain, or give her a coin?

But you’re Haves, having power to gag,
Pity! She’s already sewn and gagged.
The moment she is born to a Have Not,
And decides to scavenge,
And decides to scavenge,
And decides to scavenge.

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