I shriek at high pitched tones in discordance, <br />mumbling words unnaturally formed, <br /> <br />stretching minute chords of my vocal tract, <br />i was a sight to stare on the bustling street, <br />irregular hair mass pivoting from my scalp, <br />thick outgrowths of beard stubs sprawled across face, <br />a breeding place for minuscule street insects, <br />feeding in comfort, on unwashed dirt, <br />adorned in threadbare sac, reaching my ankle, <br />i felt like an official prince of the poor, <br />being mentally traumatized since i was born, <br />brutally whipped at all quarters of life, <br />utterly bereft of a shoulder to droop upon, <br />looked upon in contempt by all passing me, <br />a large slate of wood to perch on all day, <br />cold stone pillows the armory for sleep, <br />a meager consumption of hard bread and contaminated <br />water, <br />i spent all my life by the fountain side, <br />with droplets of misery showered in plenty, <br />an empty begging container my proudest possession, <br />dangling from my skeleton shoulders, <br />i have to make an early exit friends, <br />there seems to be a traffic jam, luxury cars seem to be <br />the majority, <br />where in lies the crux of my begging activity<br /><br />Nikhil Parekh<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-day-in-the-life-of-a-beggar/
