The Life Of A Poor Man Poem by Mridin Govind

The days come to an end
But see those poor men
Roaming around hungry
Always saying' Ah! Woe is me! '
And we are so blind,
That we cannot read any mind
They move with a frustrated hand
But they get in return a bang
Everyone calls them insane
But if we give them some money they will earn fame
Thee shoo them away
That to everyday
Then they grow old
but still they are bold
Then they die
In grief
So understand O citizen
care for the poor men