Clutter

He stays only a few blocks away from here,
In a makeshift house,
He calls home.
A lean young boy who mows the garden lawn,
He knows not, where he belongs.
I’ve known him for quite some time,
We worked at the same house.
Our old master was kind, he fed us plenty and gave us new clothes.
But, things have been a little different now;
We’ve been shrouded from the rest of the world,
To please a foreign mate.
Where seeds were once sown
And beautiful crops dotted the fertile earth,
They built their houses.
We start afresh,
With tiresome backward steps,
And the name of God in our prayers,
For a life of comfort ahead.
Some have wandered off to their villages,
While others beg at walkways and traffic stops for their daily bread.
When rain falls
And harsh gales overtake us,
We’ll finally lose our warmth.
Its an unfair world.
It doesn’t matter what path you take when you haven’t any ends ,
Some fates are decided before your journeys can even begin.
Wherever I may go,
I’ll have my hut to shelter me.
I’ll live as I’ve lived,
With very few clothes and some food to get me through today.
While others thrive,
I’ll dream to persist.