Rug-Romance

From the cup of their hand,
to the withering lips,
isn’t it a shame that they are on this land?
From the rag-covered kids,
to the men and women who wrap themselves in used rejects,
Isn’t it a shame that do not fit,
 in the society for civilised?

Oh wait! Maybe they actually do!
To survive as scavengers and polish shoes.
Or perhaps make a living out of taking off shoes,
and other lusty clothes and to sell their bodies.
Bodies which are famished from inside
because it cannot abide
by the rules of this trade.

What can we do apart from debate?
It’s true! What can we do
when the problem is bigger than the solution?
The actions dissolve
as quickly as they are resolved
to be undertaken.
But it’s nothing personal, don’t be mistaken
because it’s them and not us.

 Who will rescue them from the cusp
of this plague and malice?
Will it be those living in palace?
Or will it be someone from you and me?

I don’t know the answers, and neither do they,
all they need is someone to say
it’s going to be alright.
Although their futures might be far out of sight,
all they need is someone to tell them,
that at the end of the tunnel there is light.