The Wintry CrippledBy Bhakta Raj Giri
The floor with flaccid cotton That had no buttons. The roof of bluish curtain That never looked certain.
The old crippled, as old as winter Came out of the shady haunt Dressed in rags And gave me a wintry smile.
I looked at him with utmost humanity But he looked at me with extreme cruelty But why? Who’s accountable in making him so? Might be! He was fade up With humanity full of snobbishness Or the empty formalities?
He just drifted off me With ragged and raged Dragging and ragging As if, not concerned with my human look.
Then I realized, the humans Have degraded to such an extent That even the doomsday doesn’t have the answer Then what’s the answer????
© Bhakta Raj Giri |